Ice Phoenix
by CatchingIce
Summary: When Draco Malfoy from district 1 and Harry Potter from district 4 are sent to the Hunger Games, little do they know this event is going to change the course of their life forever. Slash. HPDM. AU. Crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer :** The hunger Games belong to Susan Collins.

The characters belong to _J.K. Rowling_

None of this belongs to us. Well, maybe the plot.

For the edit of the fanfiction cover, I used an image from RAMUL, on deviantart. I'll admit I didn't ask for her/his permission, and I'm deeply sorry ... But it was so beautiful *_* . Here's the link : browse.(deviant[]art) ?qh=§ion;=&global=1&q=ice+phoenix#/d15o697

**Summary** : When Draco Malfoy from district 1 and Harry Potter from district 4 are sent to the Hunger Games, little do they know this event is going to change the course of their life forever. Slash. HPDM. AU. (no-magic)

**Pairing** : Draco and Harry.

**Author(s) Notes** : This story has been written by Melita and Cécile (you can find me under the name "Coquecigrue" on fanfiction . net)

English is not our first language. Melita is from Denmark, and I'm from France. We don't have a beta-reader, but if you're interested, don't hesitate sending us a message !

I hope you'll enjoy our work. Please, review ? (:

* * *

''Boy! Get down here'' Someone yelled from downstairs. Harry sighed and dragged his body out from the bed tiredly. Today was the day. The reaping day. He couldn't shake the dread out from his body, because he knew he had all the odds against him. Harry Potter was written 40 times on small papers. Today he had 40 entries in that bowl. It was just a matter of time, when it would be his turn. Trust his gut feelings that was telling him today would be the day. ''Did you hear me! Come down, NOW!'' his uncle continued yelling. Oh well. He couldn't hide away in his room forever.

Slowly, he made his way down the stairs. The ugly purple face of Vernon welcomed him while he spat "What were you doing, boy ? Now is no time to laze ! You have to feed the horses and the dogs, before going to the reaping ceremony!". Harry nodded, and went to the stable to give grains to the beautiful stallions his family had bought three years ago. He wondered what was going to happen to them if he was reaped today. He was the only one allowing them out of their boxes. Once he was done, he went back to his room to prepare himself for the ceremony. He wore a simple white shirt with grey trousers. The ensemble was old-fashioned, and far too small for Harry, but it held a lot of value for the young man, since it had been his father's clothes, and one of his only belongings.

Every year he imagined what his parents would have been like, on the reaping day. Would they have been worried? He didn't really have an answer because they weren't here. He didn't know why their death always came to his mind each year when he prepared for the Reaping Ceremony. Maybe because they had died fighting against everything The Hunger Games and the Capitol stood for. He still remembered the day like it was yesterday. Absentmindedly he traced the scar on his forehead.

Ten years. For ten years, they had been openly against the government, trying to rally people to their cause. Despite the district's gossips and the daily threats, they had kept their heads high. But it had taken five second to erase them from the surface of the earth. Someone, probably some extremist supporting the capitol, had put a bomb in their house. Five years old Harry was sleeping in the car, and they had not wanted to wake him. They had silently taken their luggages inside the little cottage. And in five seconds, it was over. They were dead, leaving Harry with that scar, alone, and orphan of his two parents.

But that was how things were. If you have anything against the Capitol you keep it to yourself. Or else you'll get the same fate as Lily and James's. Every trace of you will be erased completely. It's like you never existed.

The only proof was Harry's memories and the memories from those who had been friends with Lily and James. Harry looked at his own reflection in the mirror and decided that this would do. As every year he made his way out on the porch and waited for his cousin Dudley. Usually Dudley would sneer at him or try to start a fight but it seemed that,on the Reaping Day, he didn't have it in him. Harry snorted inwardly. His dear cousin was a coward. He wouldn't survive five minutes in the Arena. He didn't know if he should feel bad for him if he got picked as a tribute. He just knew his aunt would have a stroke if her dear Duddie-kins name appeared today. Harry looked at his cousin. He was a copy of his Uncle Vernon and it looked like he gained weight every year. Not exactly a thing that would be in his favor in the Games. He didn't really have any strengths that Harry knew of. They slowly made their way to the ceremony. Not exchanging a single word. Both had a lot on their mind and both dreaded the ceremony.

On their way to the City hall, Harry didn't meet any acquaintances. He wondered briefly if someone would actually miss him, if he went to the Hunger Games. The temperature was hot, and his hands started to feel sweaty. He wiped them on his trousers and tried to keep calm. Finally, they were there. The place was already crowded. Harry spotted Hermione on the stage. She nodded to him with a small smile.

Hermione was Harry's best friend, and the winner of the 72th Edition of the Hunger Games. She was very clever, and if Harry had not been shitting in his pants from fear, he could actually have enjoyed the show. She had understood the Capitol's rules and she gave them a spectacle they would never forget. But when she had came back, she had never been the same. Sometimes, she would gaze intently at an invisible point behind Harry and he knew she was thinking of the Games. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in the actual games. It was probably different to watch it, than to be in the situation. He went to register himself and winced as they stung his finger to take some blood, and applied his index on the paper.

As Harry was one of the older ones he made his way to the front. ''Hey Harry.'' Someone said from behind him. He turned his head and smiled slightly. It was Cho Chang. A girl he knew from school and talked to sometimes. ''Hi.'' He said back. It looked like she wanted to say something more but was interrupted when the major cleared his throat in the microphone.

Harry turned his head towards the stage again and tuned out immediately when the mayor began speaking. He could have repeated that speech in his sleep. It was exactly the same every year. He told the history of Panem. How all the districts came to be, and all the things they've been through. Harry didn't understand how people truly believed that this was how things were supposed to be. That this was the only way to maintain the peace. This wasn't peace. This was anything but peace. This was just the Capitols way to show them that they were completely at their mercy. What happened to them depended on their decisions.

After the speech he usually read the list of all the victors from District four. Luckily they had their fair share of victors . The only two that were still alive were Remus Lupin that had won the 49th edition, and Hermione Granger that had won last year. After this the crowd responded with an applause. Harry knew that now they were only minutes away from knowing who would be the two tributes. He tried to breathe calmly and to not show any traces of panic outside. He gets eye contact with Hermione again and she winks at him and sends him the ghost of a smile. He knows it's her way of telling him 'It'll be alright. Don't you worry.'

Gilderoy Lockhart, this year's escort, takes the major's place. He addresses a charming smile to the mob and waves his hand, laughing. He's an attractive man with surprising red hair. He wears a pink costume and Harry can't say if he has a face on his makeup, or makeup on his face. "Welcome Welcome" he starts "I'm Gilderoy Lockhart, your escort.". The answer is an enthusiastic clapping from the girls. Being an escort in the district 4 is an honor, along with the districts 1 and 2. Harry knows their district is very wealthy, and a major part of the population is opulent. The young man meets the sight of a blushing Hermione and rolls his eyes. "Now, the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman for the honor of representing district 4 at the 72th annual Hunger Games." he moves in an awkward way and Harry can't help thinking he looks like a broken doll.

The red haired man smiles again and makes his way to the first bowl "As usual, ladies first.". His hand dances in the jar and the tension is so thick you can cut it with a knife. Finally, he seizes a little paper and opens it with a smirk. "Cho Chang" he says with his musical voice, and Harry suddenly hates him. Because he knows the cute, sweet little Cho Chang. He knows she won't have any chances in the Hunger Games. Rage pervades his mind and he swallows his bile down with great difficulty.

He doesn't even dare to turn around and look at Cho. He knows that she's not cut out for this. There's a complete silence as she walks up to the stage. She looks nervously around and you can feel the fear that's rolling off her. Harry starts wishing that it was any girl but her. She's not going to survive. Harry tries to make eye contact with her because she's panicking and her eyes darts wildly across the crowd. She's probably searching her parents out. Waiting for their reaction. Hoping they can do something about this. But they can't. Unless someone volunteers, and nobody does.

''And now to the boys.'' Lockhart continues with a smile plastered on his face. ''Let's see who's the lucky boy going to be.''. Harry closed his eyes and waited for the name. ''Ah, and we have our male tribute. Harry Potter.'' The voice booms and Harry immediately snaps his eyes open. Did he hear that wrong? He must have. ''Harry Potter.'' The voice repeats and Harry's face pales. Hermione and Lupin are looking at him with pity in their eyes. That's the last thing he wants. He don't want their pity. He'll go up on that stage and take one step at a time.

He forces his legs to start moving and with his head held high, he goes up on the stage. He will not give his Uncle and Aunt the satisfaction of seeing him break down. He will not give anyone that satisfaction. Besides, that will only make things worse when he reaches the Arena. No one likes weak tributes. No matter what you do, don't show weakness. Harry's not sure, but he believes he heard snickers in the crowd. He doesn't know for certain who it was but he can bet it's Dudley and his friend, Piers. He ignores them and makes sure his steps looks assured and determined, because he has to win the games. Even if he can't believe his bad luck right now.

When he climbs on the scene, he can see on Hermione's face she would give anything to hug him right now. Hermione had lost her parents to illness, three years ago, and he was the only remaining family she had. Harry turns his face to the cameras and smiles. It's the smile of a victor, and even if he doesn't feel very victorious right now, he hopes he's going to give a hard time the other tributes. Just like Lockhart did a few minutes ago, he waves his hand in the air, and then walks to his right side, looking at Cho. She tries to make a good figure, but it's too late. Everybody saw the few tears streaming down her face. She's already classified as weak. She just signed her own death warrant.

Lockhart asks them to shake hands, and they obey. Cho blushes when her fingers brushes Harry's, but she doesn't look at him in the eyes. In comparison, he looks like the very image of a conqueror. His emerald eyes spark like two beautiful diamonds, and his black hair floats around his face, emphasizing the golden brightness of his tanned skin. His chest is broad, and you can guess the delicate lines of his muscles under his sleeves. He was handsome, there was no denying it, and the sponsors were probably going to crawl to get a piece of him.

Harry squeezes her hand gently in reassurance but they don't really say anything to each other. Really, what is there to say? They are each others opponents now. They both know that no matter what they'll say to each other it won't really matter. As soon as they are thrown in the Arena they won't hesitate to kill. Harry just hopes he won't be the one that needs to kill her. It's a terrible thought, but it's the truth. Somebody will kill her. He'll just try not to be the one.

As soon as the Anthem stopped, the peacekeepers come and take both Harry and Cho into custody. Harry follows them into an empty room as they close the door behind them. He's all alone now. He allows himself to slump down on a chair that's nearby and covers his face in his hands. In reality it wouldn't really matter if he died in that stupid Arena. He didn't really have anyone that would care, besides maybe Hermione. So honestly, what did he have to lose? Nothing. He pressed his palms tightly against his eyes to stop the tears from coming. Anyone could come through that door at any moment and he wouldn't allow himself to show weakness. Not even a moment of weakness.

Hermione rushes in the room, running, followed shortly by Remus. "Oh, Harry", she cries against his chest. "We won't let you down, okay? No matter what." she cups his cheeks with her hands and plants a watery kiss on his forehead, next to his scar. Remus puts a hand on his shoulder in a comforting kind of way. "I promised your parents I was going to protect you." he says quietly "I failed miserably.". Then, he pulls him into a bone crushing hug.

Harry had never been very close to Remus. He knew he was a very good friend of his father, but their relationship was only punctuated by polite exchanges. Clumsily, he disentangles himself from their embrace. Harry doesn't really enjoy physical contact. He immediately feels uncomfortable. Suddenly, the door opens again to reveal a deathly pale Petunia. She wears a lavender dress and her fingers are gripping her little purse so tightly her knuckles are white. "Harry ..." she begins, hesitating on what she's going to do. Surprised, Harry watches her curiously. She looks like she's going to cry. "I ... Good luck." is the only thing she says, before leaving a very confused Harry behind her.

Harry stares with a baffled expression after her. Thinking about what just happened. It almost looked like she wished he wasn't the one getting chosen as the male tribute. He gazes bewildered at Hermione but she looked just as confused as he was. Suddenly Hermione throws herself at Harry again, almost sobbing, even though she tries to control herself. ''Oh god, Harry. I-I promise you. It'll be alright.''. Harry claps her rather awkwardly on the shoulder. ''I know, Hermione. Come on.. Let's just.. Let's not talk more about it. We can't really change anything now, can we.''

She smiles sadly at him. ''I know.'' She gives him a quick peck on the cheek and turns to Remus. ''We should get down to the station. The train will leave in exactly an hour.'' Remus nods and gestures for Harry, to follow them. They picked Cho up on the way, and together they made their way down to the station. Remus tried to start conversations but to no avail. They died pretty fast and the tension was really thick. They knew there was absolutely no way out now. They reached the station and Harry almost got blinded by reporters snapping pictures of him. Remus and Hermione did their best to keep them away, and hurriedly they reached the automatic doors of the train.

Gilderoy Lockhart was waiting for them in the wagon, smiling brilliantly. "Ah! The tributes! Excellent, excellent. Come and sit with me" he leads them to a gargantuan buffet, filled with French pastries, mouthing, aperitif, fruits and small drinks. Harry had never seen so much food in his life. The Dursleys never shared their meal with him, and he would spend days starving when the weather was too cold and he couldn't go fishing. He settled on a cozy looking armchair and closed his eyes for a few seconds, before having his daydream interrupted by the constant babbling of Lockhart. He was rambling on how luxurious the Capitol was, how he loved the new tables in cherry wood - last year, it was mahogany and this was so old fashioned - and how happy he was to meet them.

"Can you shut up for a minute, please?" asked Harry, overwrought. Lockhart made a face but complied. Hermione send a disapproving glare in his direction, and he merely smiled at her. Cho kept her eyes on the window, not flickering once.

Harry couldn't really decide if he should sit down beside Cho and get her to talk. He could tell by her red eyes that she had been crying a lot. He wondered how her parents had reacted. He knew that the time they had in the room wasn't enough for a person to say goodbye to family and friends. She probably knew it was their final goodbye. For twelve years Harry's been desperately wishing that his parents were still alive. But right now, at this moment, he was glad they weren't. Because he wasn't sure he could have said goodbye. Not a final goodbye.

''Harry, you should eat while you're here.'' Hermione chided. He just rolls his eyes. He knew she would be fussing all over him as long as she could. The problem was, he wasn't hungry at all. One should think he would have wolfed the food down by now, but he just couldn't. He had lost all appetite, and everything else, the moment his name got picked. He just shook his head and closed his eyes again. Indicating that he didn't really want to talk. ''Come dears, there's plenty of food for all of us.'' Came Lockharts voice. Harry looked at him with disgust while he had his mouth stuffed with food.

So much for standing. Obviously wealth didn't equal good manners.

''No thank you.'' Harry replied, more friendly this time. ''Ah boy, you look like you could use a good meal.'' He continued. ''No, thank you.'' Harry said through gritted teeth this time. It seemed that Remus knew Harry had a short temper so he picked up a conversation with Lockhart. ''I'll be in my room.'' Cho suddenly said, while she got to her feet. Without a blink she left the room.

Harry pondered for a minute whether he should follow her or not, then decided he would. He excused himself to his comrades and got out of the lounge. He was not sure of where the tributes rooms were supposed to be, and hesitated a moment before taking the left door. Turns out that his supposition was right. He knocked softly at the door indicating «Female Tribute» . "Cho? Can I come in?" he asks gently. Getting no answer, he pushed the door open, to find Cho curled up in her sheets, sobbing.

"Please, don't cry ..." he begs, not knowing what to do of her distress. Awkwardly, he puts his fingers on her back to stroke her spine. Slowly, she begins to calm down and he sighs in relief. "Don't think I don't know." she whispers. "What?" he croaks. "I have no chance to survive, have I?" she questions, but it's not really a question, she's already resigned herself to that fate. "Don't say that!" he protests weakly "You have as much a chance as any other tribute!". She gets up to look him in his eyes. "Don't you dare lie to me, Harry Potter. I'm not an idiot. I know I'm fucked." Cho doesn't give him the time to answer, and she continues "I'm not strong willed, or brave, I don't have any particular talent. I don't know how to find food, I don't even know how to swim properly!" she screams the end of her speech desperately. Harry doesn't say anything, and she forces a smile on her pretty face. "You. You can win this, Harry. I trust you.".

Harry just stares sadly at her and has a sudden urge to take her into his arms. They both need the comfort, but Harry's just not really comfortable with giving it. ''Cho, you..'' But he doesn't really know what to say. Because she's right. She's already shown a great weakness and maybe if she's lucky, she'll get sponsors based on the fact, that they feel bad for her. But the chances are slim. ''Just don't give up.'' He ends up saying, weakly. She just shook her head fervently and turned away from him again. ''I... I c-can't.. I.. I want to go home.'' She starts sobbing again. Her whole body shakes.

Harry decides that enough was enough. He gently takes her into his arms and rocks with her. He didn't say a word because it wasn't necessary. Words wouldn't make anything better. He stays there, silently rocking her, until she falls asleep. He makes sure she is comfortable before he leaves the room again. Wondering if he should go back to his room, just forget this whole day and go to sleep. He knew he should probably eat. In fact he should eat as often as he could while there was food available. Once they are in the Arena it will be a lot harder to find enough to sustain himself. Harry knew this.

* * *

The next morning found Harry in a much better mood. Maybe it was because he fell asleep with a full stomach, which wasn't something that happened very often, or because the bed was so comfortable. Maybe it was because Hermione was not her usual lecturing self, or because he had actually seen a real smile on Cho's lips. Anyway, he felt relaxed an ready to learn how to survive in the arena. He went to breakfast with a hundred of questions, but forgot half of them when he was met by the sight of food. He took a seat in one of the chairs at the table and smiled at Hermione and Cho, who were the only one up "How are you on this fine morning ?" he asked pleasantly, while helping himself with hot chocolate and a generous amount of toast, jam, bacon, and scrambled eggs.

Cho just nods in response and smiles slightly. Hermione immediately brightens up when she sees that Harry is in a better mood, and is eating again. ''Fine thank you, do you feel better now?'' She asks. Harry just nods because he has his mouth full of food. ''Well that's good.'' Hermione smiles. ''Remus will be here in a minute. He'll probably discuss our plan with you guys, and how you'll get sponsors.''

Harry has finally wolfed down enough food and feels pleasantly full. He leans back in his chair, waiting for Remus. Cho continues to eat silently and they don't really exchange any words. Finally Remus appears and he greets them both as he sits down. ''So. We'll need to come up with a plan. Hermione and I will help you as best as we can. So I was thinking we could talk about your strengths and weaknesses. Then we can take it from there.''.

"I don't have any strengths." blurted Cho, before she got up and ran away.

Again. Harry rolls his eyes, irritated by the girl's behavior. Remus and Hermione seemed to think along the same lines, and decides to turn toward Harry who shrugs. He didn't have time to worry about Cho right now. "I dunno. I'm good at swimming, I s'ppose.". His best friend scolds "Don't be stupid, Harry. He's very resistant." she says to Remus "And he knows how to find food. Surviving is a second nature to him.". Harry grabs an apple, listening to her. "His weaknesses ... He doesn't think before he acts." "Hey!" the boy protests, but she ignores him "And he never learnt to defend himself with specific weapons. But he's good with a knife.". Remus nods, carefully writing on a piece of paper what he was learning. He looks deeply at Harry and notes "He's good looking. The Capitol is going to love him.".

Harry frowns. What did his appearance have to do with anything? Besides.. He wasn't even that good looking. Why would they mention that. Remus looks at Hermione and she agrees. ''It seems like you have a great advantage, Harry. Seeing as how you're very resistant. That will help you greatly in the Arena.'' He says. Hermione continues ''And we won't waste time learning you how to use other weapons. There isn't enough time for that. We'll just improve the skills you already have.'' She reaches for his hand and squeezes gently. ''And you are one handsome boy, Harry. You'll have all the ladies at your feet.'' Hermione grins.

Harry blushes and looks away "I'm not handsome." he mumbles. He was going to add something when his gaze fell on the landscape behind the train's window. "Oh my goodness." he swore, in awe. In front of him was the sight of the most beautiful city he'd ever seen. "Is that the capitol ?" he questioned, not quite sure what to say. "Yes, Harry", Hermione answers brightly. "It's wonderful, isn't it ? It looks so ... ethereal and fake, compared to our district. You'll see it once you're there, but I couldn't help thinking it was only superficial paint, you know, covering rotten foundations. People are very frivolous, there, they barely know anything about real life. I hated them" she spats the last words. Harry went to sit by the one of the windows to admire it more closely.

''Yeah, maybe it does look fake, but look! It's so... Beautiful.'' He says, still in awe. The whole city was really grand. Harry didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the oddly dressed people. It all seemed more like an art project than a real city. Everything was so artificial and fake looking.

As the train finally reaches the station Harry saw that people outside were standing and waving wildly at him. Looking all excited and curious to see who these strangers were and how they looked like. Harry backed away from the window. He had to force himself to calm down again. He felt sick. They enjoyed this. They truly were excited about the games. They didn't care that it was kids that had to kill each other to survive, while the Capitol and the districts could follow every move from home. It was purely entertainment for them. Nothing else. No one mattered here. What mattered was to create the best entertainment possible.

The games always got worse each year, because people started to get bored pretty fast. Harry dreaded what they would come up with this year. He knew it would be bad no matter what.

A group of peacekeepers was waiting for them in front of the doors. They barely looked at them as they settled for secluding the tributes from the crowd. Harry doesn't stop smiling, and he feels Hermione's hand on his shoulder. She's here for him, he knows that, and that thought appeases him greatly. She wont let him die in the arena, he can see it on her face already. Cho doesn't smile. Her gaze is stuck on the floor. Harry wants to shake her from her apathy. When his eyes lands on the Capitol Inhabitants, once again, he wonders if he's in a circus. He once saw a clown, when he was eight years old. The smiling buffoon had tried to take him in his arms, but Harry had panicked, and ran way. He can't get rid of the feeling that he's going to enter the marquee, in which the lions and the snakes are not trained not to bite. He quivers.

* * *

''Time for the make-over.'' Hermione whispers beside him. Harry stares, bewildered, at her. Make-over? They needed to look pretty while getting killed? The things people would do for pure entertainment quality is sickening, Harry thought to himself. ''It'll just take a couple of hours.'' She continues. ''Cross fingers for me, maybe I'll win this beauty contest.'' Harry says sarcastically.

She doesn't have time to reply before he stands in front of three people. Two men and a horrible looking woman that seem uptight and stern. Of course she does that, or else her perfectly painted face would crack. God, those people's fashion sense was disturbing. Her whole face was dyed in a radiating blue color and Harry didn't even have the words to describe her hair. She takes a step towards them and introduces herself as Alecto Carrow. It seemed like one of the men was her brother, Amycus Carrow. The last one was introduced as Avery. He was quite a handsome man if you ignored his shocking red hair and golden tattoos that seemed to follow his facial lines. The woman grabs Cho by the arm and takes her away, murmuring something about a too innocent look. Harry stares at the two men, fidgeting slightly.

Suddenly feeling self conscious. He doesn't want them to change him. Make him look like someone he wasn't. Transform him into someone who isn't Harry. ''Dear god, that hair!'' Avery exclaimed. He walks over to Harry and starts to run his fingers through his hair. It seemed like he inspected every hair straw closely, sighing every few minutes. ''Well, we should definitely start with this bird's nest.'' He says, while he nodded to himself.

They made him sit in front of a huge mirror and he had to blink a few times before getting used to the projectors. He tried to protest when Avery took his chisel and chopped a long strand of hair, but couldn't find it in him. Half an hour later, he sighed in relief, when they finally showed him the results. He kind of liked it. His hair still looked wild, and unstructured, but in a stylized kind of way. After that, and a ton of hair spray, they obliged him to get naked and to lay on an "operating table", as they called it. "We should depilate him." stated Amycus, while his gaze lingered a little too much for Harry's taste to the level of his groin.

Finally, the information made its way to his brain and he shouted "What ? I don't want to be depilated! I'm a man, remember?". They ignored him while Alecto nodded and smiled - if you could call that a smile - "The camera will do him wonders. Have you seen those muscles ?" she took a long white band that she applied to his chest. "What is this?" he asked, anxious. "Nothing to worry about, dear" she answered, while applying other bands. "What is this?" he repeated in a more squeaking voice this time. Avery was the one to rejoin when he snatched the first band. Harry screamed and swore in pain "WHERE IS MY PUBIC HAIR?" he asked urgently "GIVE IT BACK TO ME. I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING GIRL!".

Avery came into view and smiled down at Harry. ''No, don't worry. You look quite... Edible.'' He said, and Harry didn't like the look in his eyes. He felt unnerved. Especially when his eyes trailed down Harry's body. He hurriedly sat up and tries to cover himself the best he could. Avery reached his hand out to Harry and beckoned him to follow along. Harry ignores the hand and just walks a step behind him instead. ''Let's take care of your skin.'' He says lightly. Harry would have done anything to just disconnect his mind from his body, at this very moment. He hated the scrutinizing looks and all the things they felt the need to do. ''Ah, let me take care of that.'' Alecto came up beside Harry and winked.

Harry felt grateful and regretted his misjudged impression of this woman. He would even let his whole District see him naked, if that meant he could get rid of Avery ever touching him again. ''Let's start with a good scrubbing, dear, hm?'' She said while she ushered him into a room that made his eyes hurt. The whole room was covered in different shades of yellow. Some were just too bright and the whole combination was horrible and disturbing. ''If you'll just step up on this stand, then I'll begin.'' She snapped her fingers and suddenly a whole shelf appeared with what seemed to be enough beauty products to last you for a lifetime. ''Hm, salt scrub or sugar scrub?'' She murmured to herself and then smiled brightly at Harry. ''Salt scrub! It wont dissolve as quickly.'' Harry just rolled his eyes and looked away while she started exfoliating his skin.

He wasn't comfortable with other people's touch. Especially not strangers. She seemed to sense his distress and tried to calm him down with light conversation topics. He was grateful for that. Afterwards she took him over to a chair and laid a hot towel over his face. ''Not that you need it, dear, but I'll use a facial cleanser on you now.'' He just nodded, feeling stupid with the damp towel covering his face.

Harry felt like a doll in the hands of three children. He could hear Avery and Amycus giggle in a corner and wondered what was making them laugh. After a while, he began to be more relaxed and to appreciate the expert hands of Alecto who was giving him a massage. They gave him a tonic for his skin and a moisturizer. Then, they made him stand up (which he did reluctantly, since he was so comfy) and they cleaned his hair with two shampoos and a conditioner smelling of roses.

When he was finally ready, the sight that met him took his breath away. It was the first time in his life that he actually felt edible. He smiled charmingly to his reflection. "Yes, Harry, you are good-looking" sniggered Hermione, who had just arrived. He looked at her and it was her turn to look shocked " Oh . my . god. My best friend is a sex bomb. Where did you hide all that muscle Harry ?". He stuck his tongue out at her, rather childishly, and she rolled her eyes. "Forget that I just said that.". He smiled at her and took her in his arms to give her a bear hug "You know I love you, Hermione" he told her. She had tears in her eyes she could barely hide, while she answered "I love you too, idiot. Now, let's go to your room. Cho is ready. We were only waiting for you.".

Harry followed Hermione back to their new room and stopped in his tracks. Cho was a beautiful girl, there was no denying it, but this was absurd. She looked so fragile. Like she would shatter into a million pieces anytime soon. It seemed like they had come up with a plan for Cho and how to get her some sponsors. She would be this Hunger Game's Damsel in distress. She would rely on her need for others to rescue her. Harry wanted to laugh because all of this was so stupid. They made her look like a fair maiden.

''Hi.'' She said shyly. Harry smiled back, ''Hey Cho.'' She kept starring intently at him. ''I told you so, you are a sex bomb.'' Hermione snickered. Cho just blushed harder and looked away. ''Er... Right. So, what now?'' Harry asked instead, feeling slightly uncomfortable discussing his looks. ''Now, you meet Luna.'' Remus said. Harry turned his head and looked at him. He forgot that he was even there with them. ''You look so much like your father.'' Remus said with a wistful smile. Harry just nodded awkwardly, not really liking when people talked about his parents.

Suddenly someone opened the door, ''Oh, there you are.'' A young woman with a soft dreamy voice said. Harry was usually wary around other people and this was no exception. This woman seemed even more strange than the others he had met. She looked back and forth between Harry and Cho with large luminous silvery grey eyes. She looked surprised, but it seemed like the look didn't fade away. Her hair was nothing like all the others he had met. Even though she seemed like the strangest of them all, her hair was just a normal dirty blonde color, that reached her waist. But that was the only thing that looked 'normal' about her. It seemed like she had used every single color that existed, on her dress. It was a confusing mix of bright colors.

Was this seriously the woman that was going to dress them up? It seemed like this really _was_ a circus. They would look like clowns on their last ride at the opening ceremony. Harry knew their last ride was important. This was their chance to make a good impression on possible sponsors. ''Oh, by the way. I'm Luna Lovegood.'' She replied in that same voice. She turned her head away and stared off into space. ''I know exactly what you will wear.'' She had a subtle smile on her face and seemed to be a million miles away, rather than in the room. Harry stared at the others, looking for their reaction to this woman. Remus smiled warmly at her, while Cho and Hermione stared at her like she was mental.

"Er ... Nice to meet you ..." mumbled Harry a bit warily. "I'm Har—" "I know who you are." she cut in "And we have some fitting to do. Come with me, Harry Potter.". He followed her, glancing at Hermione, who just shrugged helplessly. Cho was taken by Luna's assistant and Harry was soon enough alone in the presence of this strange stylist. She was humming a song, dancing on her feet, while she led him to a little room full of sketches and crumpled papers. She asked him to sit down, while she left the compartment to come back five minutes later, with the proper ensemble. Cautious, he entered the fitting room and was surprised to discover he only had to wear very tight trousers of which the material seemed to imitate fish scales.

Harry was chary, but he exited the room to show the results to Luna. She grinned and started to apply a weird glittering lotion on his body, and stuck ten little purple spines on his shoulders and arms. Finally, she put a strangely elegant aileron on his back and handed him a very fluid transparent cape that looked like water. It was hung to his neck by thin golden chains. The final touch was a braided red coral crown she put religiously on his head.

''There. You're all finished.'' Luna replied, looking at him in wonder. She took him by the hand, and lead him over to a big wall mirror. ''You'll blow them all away, Harry Potter.'' She continued. Harry gaped at his own reflection. Well, he knew that he wasn't exactly bad looking. He was probably average looking. But that boy, staring back at him, was anything but average. Was that really him, Harry wondered? He never complimented himself, so he didn't have the right words to describe how he looked. ''You look gorgeous, Harry.'' Luna said in that dreamy voice. Harry stared at her, afraid for a second, that she had read his thought. He just shrugged awkwardly, not really knowing what to say.

The creation Luna had made was truly magnificent, and it resembled his district perfectly. This whole creation made him look like a merman king. ''You'll be unforgettable at the opening ceremony, Harry Potter. And that will win you great favor with the crowd. They'll love you.'' She continued, and seemed perfectly fine with the fact that she was practically talking to herself. ''It's supposed to reflect the flavor and industry of the district.'' She explained. Well Harry had figured that much out. He decided he should probably at least say _something_. ''And you did a great job with it.'' He said with a little smile. This was the first words he had exchanged with her. She just squeezed his shoulder and took him by the hand again. Leading him out the doors. ''The opening ceremony will begin in a moment. You'll line up after district. As you're from District 4, you'll be the fourth to go in.'' Harry suddenly started getting nervous. He felt like he was being thrown into an exhibition cage. He felt nauseous and sick.

Cho joined him a few minutes later, looking at least twice as nervous as he was. Knowing he wasn't the only one apprehending what was going to happen, he felt himself relax, and took a moment to admire the young woman. She was truly beautiful. Her long straight hair had been carefully combed, and a little braid was streaming along her black tresses, with a white shining sea pearl at the end. She wore a long dress, in the same material as his trousers. You could guess the elegant shadows of two dolphins' embrace, and the admirable lining of the robe, which emphasized Cho's graceful silhouette. She wore the same red coral crown as Harry. This girl looked like a fairytale princess, and tonight, she was his Queen. He smiled at her and complimented her appearance, "You're gorgeous.". She grinned back "Why, thank you sir. And you're handsome too.".

It was their first moment of complicity, and Harry regretted that he never took any interest in this shy lady before. One of the employee asked them to climb on the carriage. They complied, and Harry admired the horses before him. They were black, and their mane was braided. The young man was still anxious, but far less than before. He took Cho's hand and they looked proudly straight ahead.

''Are we going to be alright?'' She asked. ''Yes.'' Harry lied. He didn't really know why she chose this moment to ask such a question, when they both knew none of them were going to be alright. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, not really lessening the grip on his opening music began and the door slid open. Something suddenly caught Harry's attention. Two people from district one were being dragged away by two white horses that were glittering with jewels. Of course the horses were adorned with bijoux, since District 1 were known for making luxury items. As soon as they stepped through the doors, the crowd immediately began to roar and applause. But the luxury and the horses was not what caught Harry's attention. No, it was the blond boy that was standing beside a dark-haired girl on the carriage.

Harry didn't know why he kept his eyes lingering on him, but something was drawing him to that stranger. Harry shook his head to clear it as soon as the boy was out of his sight. ''Are you alright?'' Cho asked beside him. He smiled confidently at her and replied, ''Yeah. Let's do this.'' The problem was, he felt anything but confident. He sighed one last time and plastered a charming smile on his face, head held high, and started waving at the crowd. This was probably the most fake smile he had ever plastered on his face. He was nothing but a prey in front of this crowd. A toy. Their entertainment had just begun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author(s) Notes:**

We are still looking for a beta-reader. Please leave us a message if you would like to help us out. Any volunteers?

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* * *

"Draco, you're not listening to me ..." sulks Pansy, probably hoping her pout is attractive.

The blond boy gives her a tired look, hesitating between telling her that her continual chatting is starting to piss him off or to just apologize for not listening to her delicious gossiping. He opts for the second one and sighs "Pansy, dear, I'm all ears ... I'm just ... Nervous ... About the ceremony.". She casts him a look of understanding. Draco doesn't think he'll be reaped, per se, but there is a chance, even minor, that he'll have to go and fight in the Hunger Games. And the perspective is not rejoicing him.

''Draco, Darling.'' She begins, and Draco cringes every time she uses that particular endearment. ''Your name is only written 7 times. Don't worry. Neither of us will be reaped.'' She sounds so sure and confident that he almost believes her. Well in fact, he's quite sure that he won't be reaped today. The odds aren't that big. It was just an excuse to explain, why he wasn't listening to her and her unpleasant voice. She was their district's biggest gossip girl. Suddenly he feels her warm breath against his chin, where she kisses him and lingers more than necessary. ''Besides, imagine how famous you'll become if you're chosen. Our district's hero.'' She gushes.

Draco winces. He doesn't want to be a hero. Not for them. Not for his father. And not for her. Especially not for her. He hates to feel her so close to him, but he knows that's what his father wants. A dalliance between the Parkinson and the Malfoy families. He had to play the game along their rules, even though it's not what he desires. But since when is he allowed to do what he wants ? They don't ask. He doesn't tell. Everything is hidden in the secret of his mind, along with his hatred for the Capitol, and for that cruel Reality Show they're all forced to watch. He stands up, wanting nothing more but to be away from Pansy, and her empty words, and hollow mind. "I... I have to go. Talk to my father." he rushes out of the lounge, hoping she won't follow him there, and finally lets out a deep breath.

He tries to clear his mind before the meeting with his father. He needs to calm down and force his anger away. He's not supposed to show any emotion at all. When he enters his father's office, his face is impassive. His father is standing by the window, looking at him with an unreadable expression. His cold grey eyes looking at him. ''Draco, please take a seat.'' Without a question Draco walks over to the chair that's opposite his father's, at the desk. ''The reaping is today.'' His father begins. Draco just keeps quiet. Knowing that it's what his father wants. Never interrupt him before he's finished. He just nods, indicating that he's listening.

''The odds that it will be you that will have the great honor to represent our district are slim. But of course, you have a duty to fulfill in this family. You know that. The marriage contract will be signed officially today, if you're not picked.'' Draco fights the urge to roll his eyes. The only thing his dear father cares about is the family name. The Hunger Games are pure entertainment for him, but should his son be picked, he would see it as a mean to bring more honor to the Malfoy name. It's all about social standing and honor.

Draco wants nothing more but to destroy everything in his father's study, burn his files, his photos, beat that smile out of his smug face. He wants to yell at Lucius that he is stealing his only chance of happiness, and that he'll never love Pansy, no matter how hard he tries. But he just cries inwardly, keeps the mask, and asks, for the first time since he learned about the contract "Do I have to, father ? Is this marriage necessary?". Lucius stares at him coldly and smirks dryly "For a second, I thought you were questioning my decision. How stupid of me to even consider you'd go against my wishes". The young man swallows his bile and answers one of his pre-made sentences "Of course not, father. Only you know what's best for our family. I respect you and I respect your decisions". There is an aftertaste of bitterness on his tongue, which he tries to forget.

His father's eyes searches his face piercingly. Trying to find any trace of reluctance from him. That he won't do as he says. But the thing is, Draco doesn't really have any other possibilities, han to obey his father. He's just a tool. There isn't any fatherly love coming from Lucius Malfoy. ''I've invited the Parkinsons to dinner this afternoon, if all goes well.''

''Yes father.'' He automatically replies.

He feels like a human robot. Detached from all emotions. Not really feeling anything. He just has all these pre-made diplomate formules that he says in all the right places. It's better to not feel anything at all. That way, nothing can really hurt you. You don't show a weakness that people can use to hurt you. It's better to be detached from all things. It's only in private that he sometimes lets himself feel just the slightest bit. But that's mostly hatred towards the Capitol.

"Don't forget, it's your duty to produce an heir." repeats the older man before getting out of his enormous armchair "One day, you'll sit where I sit here today, and you'll understand that great power also induces great responsibilities. As the Malfoy heir, you'll have to be aware of that.". He turns his back on his son and looks at himself in the mirror, detaining the details of his stature, his greyish bear and almost white hair, and also the wrinkles streaming gaps on his forehead. He calls them, "the power wrinkles", and says the position he occupies now, brought them on his face.

"I'm getting old, Draco, and soon enough you''ll be the head of the family.". Draco frowns, "I underst-". "No you don't." cuts Lucius, laughing wryly "Don't you think I was young, once? Full of dreams, hoping for wings that never came ? Life isn't a dream. It is what you make of it.".

His eyes are back on Draco again. ''Our family has fought hard to make the Malfoy name an honorable one. I trust you to do the same. Do not tarnish it. Your foolish mother saw it wise to chase her own dreams.'' He laughs bitterly. ''This is not a world that gives you a place for dreams, Draco. It would be foolish to chase something that will never be. Dreams do not exist. Only in a child's ignorant mind. You are no child.'' Draco maintains his cold demeanor, showing indifference, but in reality he would like to punch his father square in the face. If his father wasn't such a bastard, maybe his mother would never have run away. She was probably dead by now. No one could run away from their respective district without an official authorization from the present legislation in place. It was impossible. Where would she go?

"I agree" he simply says. Because there's nothing much he can tell his arrogant pater. It's not often that he talks about his wife's departure. Draco doesn't remember much from Narcissa Malfoy, except that she was blond, had beautiful blue eyes, was fresh and gracious as a summer flower, and laughed often. The complete antithesis of his father. She ran away when he was eight, ten years ago, and left him with nothing but a pretty Narcissus flower on his little bed. Draco had never told anyone, but he had varnished the flower to keep her frozen in her ethereal beauty, looking at it when he was feeling depressed, remembering that it didn't take much more than a flower to fly away. He could honestly say, that he didn't miss her. He had learned to live with her absence, much to Lucius's pride.

''Well then, the ceremony is in an hour. You should get dressed.'' His father dismissed him and returned to his desk. Taking a paper out from one of the drawers and looking it over. It was probably the marriage contract. Oh, how he would like nothing but to burn and destroy that contract. A life long commitment to Pansy wasn't something he found thrilling at all. He got to his feet and made his way to his room.

He slumped down in his bed and stifled a scream in his pillow. He was behind closed doors, no one would hear him. He felt frustrated and angry yet again. It seemed he couldn't contain any other emotion than anger. It was all consuming at times. He was sure it would destroy him, if he didn't know how to force emotions back, and not let them get to him. Well, at least his father had learned him one thing he could actually use. He shuffled over to his wardrobe and took a look, considering what would be proper to wear.

He looked at his multiple costumes, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, he decided himself on a dark grey suit, with a curved jacket, and tight trousers that enhanced his slender shape. A light grey tie and hand made leather shoes. He was ready for the Ceremony. He checked himself in the mirror, looking appreciatively at his body. He was not foolish enough to deny how handsome he was, and he certainly wasn't one of the District's most seek out bachelor for his brains. Not that he wasn't smart, mind you. Combing his hair, he finally made his way to the grids of the propriety, where a limo was waiting for him. His father being pro-Capitol did have its advantages.

He got into the limo and watched the scenery outside on the drive to where the reaping would take place. Everywhere children from age 12 to 18 was making their way to the ceremony. One would think you could read the anxiety on their faces if you looked closely. That was a lie. His district took pride in the Hunger Games. Parents forced their children to train for the games from a young age. No one ever spoke about it, but it did happen in most families. Draco himself started his training when he was 8. His father made sure he had the best tutors he could find. He knew, that if he got picked he would be prepared.

Most winners came from those districts that had trained and prepared the tributes in advance, and his district was one of them. Finally they arrived and as soon as he got out of the limo, he had Pansy's arms around his neck. He returned the embrace half-heartedly and kissed her cheek in greeting. ''You're just in time, darling. The ceremony will begin in a moment. We need to register, come along.'' She grabbed his hand and dragged him to one of the registration stands.

After getting sticked by a random woman and hissing from the sudden pain in his finger, he went to the front, and sat on the chairs reserved to VIP's. Draco's grand father had been one of the first tributes, 57 years ago, and one of the first victors too. Abraxas Malfoy, a young blond man looking almost like Lucius's twin, with long hair and an unnerving confident smile. He was the one to first bring honor to the family, and his portrait presided the dining room. Draco didn't look like his father, apart from his blond hair and grey eyes. His face was more feminine, more delicate. He was still manly, but in an elegant kind of way.

The major went in front of the scene and nodded to Draco. Draco answered to the greeting, and kept his attention on the giant screen, and the famous speech about the nation, the war, the deaths, the disasters, and then how Panem was born from the ashes of the old United States, more grandiose, more proud. It looked like one of the forbidden documentaries about the old USSR, with the family images, and the monotone voiceover.

Draco wanted to laugh at the mentioning of how they had become a proud nation. What was there to be proud of? Besides these sick twisted ideals.

Behind the mayor sat two previous winners. Theodore Nott and Milicent Bullstrode. Draco wanted to wipe the smirk from their faces. They still basked in the glory of being one of the district's winners. They enjoyed everything that came with it. Nott had been ruthless in the Arena. Even Draco would have feared him if he allowed himself to admit it. It didn't take long to stand alone as the only tribute. Milicent Bullstrode had been more careful and sneaky in her tactics, but people had underestimated her killing abilities. She never showed anyone what her talents were. People in the Arena easily forgot her, before she went in for the kill. The mayor finished his speech and the microphone stand was lowered. It was time for the escort to come on stage and soon they would have two tributes. Filius Flitwick walked up on the stage. The town's dwarf. He was an honorable man everyone respected, despite his size.

Filius giggled in the microphone and bowed, which made him even more tiny. His little round chins, his big blue eyes and his pointy nose led Draco to compare him to some sort of elf or goblin "Welcome to the Hunger Games!" he exclaims enthusiastically, and bowed once more. Draco lifted an eyebrow. No doubt his size gained him admirers in the Capitol, because, you could change your face, color your hair and your eyebrows, but being a dwarf made him even more an original. "Boy first, this year" he chuckles and Draco rolls his eyes. Probably his idea of fun. Flitwick moves his little body in front of the bowl and someone quickly brings a stool for the escort. The man smiles brightly and puts his hand bluntly in the jar to take a piece of paper "And ... This year's champion is ...Dra~co Malfoy" he purrs his name and all Draco can do, is stand there stupidly and look incredulous.

It's not that he's panicking, but he was so sure he have to go. This was his last year, seeing as how he was eighteen. This wasn't supposed to happen. Draco Malfoy, dear people; will bring you next weeks entertainment in the Annual Hunger Games, he mocks in his own head. Make sure to gather the family everyone. This is for your pleasure. He feels sick when he forces a proud look on his face. Head held high he walks up on the stage and takes his place. ''And now for the female tribute.'' Flitwick once again picked out a paper and looked down at the crowd. ''Florence Parson!''. A girl that couldn't possibly be more than 13 year starts walking towards the stage, until Draco hears a familiar voice saying, ''I volunteer.''

Draco just can't get the irritation out of his face. Is Pansy stupid? Or completely suicidal? Why would she even consider that? But Draco knows he just gained a powerful ally in the arena. Pansy might be an idiot, but she was merciless and wouldn't hesitate to kill anybody. Plus, she was entirely devoted to Draco. Which was probably why she volunteered, convinced as she was, that they were stars-crossed-lovers. This conclusion doesn't bring Draco to like her more, and he sneers, as she run on stage to hug him, in tears, under the cat-calls of the crowd "We'll never be separated..." she claims, and Draco answers dejectedly "Great ...".

The crowd roars and cheers. These people must be stupid. Don't they know only one can win? Surely Pansy knows that. The star-crossed-lovers card wouldn't get them anywhere. Unless his dear father used his good name and grace to negotiate with the right people. He had enough influence to do it. He was a big supporter of the Capitol. In the end Draco decided that it had all worked in his favor. He could toy with Pansy as he wished, because she would cater to his every whim. She would be the best ally he could get. Together they could probably take out all the other tributes. Of that he was sure.

Suddenly her mouth is on his and she's clutching him so tightly he can't breathe. He can't push her away because he needs to keep the act up. So instead he just stands there impassive. Not returning the kiss. But that was something the crowd couldn't see, Pansy was the only one that could feel it. She draws back and frowns at him. Confusion written all over her face. God, this girl was stupid. He had never given any impression of being in love with her. She was so blind. He gave her his most charming smile and winked at her. She smiled brightly back and didn't bother to think more about his lack of responding into the kiss. She intertwined their fingers together and stood proudly on the stage beside him. Well, it wouldn't do to make her suspicious. He needed her now.

The peacekeepers lead them respectfully to the City Hall, in the rooms reserved for the occasion. Once he's alone, Draco clenches his fists painfully and hits the wall, imagining Pansy's face instead. He doesn't have time to regain his posture as Lucius Malfoy is already entering the place, with a small smirk. "Well, I'll admit I had not foreseen it." he confesses, not losing his smugness. "No shit." Draco mumbles before receiving a blow from his father's cane "Language, Draco" he admonishes, before making the gesture for him to sit down on one of the chairs. Feeling rebellious, Draco stands up valiantly and glares at his father.

Draco really has nothing to lose right now, so he figures this would be his chance to stand up against his father. Just this once. ''You must really be proud, _father_.'' He spits and looks him directly in the eyes, not cowering the slightest. ''Is this the honor you're talking about?'' Lucius narrows his eyes and strikes with the cane again, but Draco doesn't even flinch. He's used to this, and used to the pain. ''Are you telling me you're not proud of your spot, Draco?'' He asks coldly. Draco immediately regrets his slip. He swore he would never let anyone know what he really thought of the whole capitol and their stupid games. Besides, his father would play an important part on his road to victory. It wouldn't be wise to anger him. ''Forgive me, Father. I was just upset that Pansy volunteered.'' He lies smoothly. ''I apologize for taking it out on you.''

The expression on Lucius's face soften and he smiles slightly "Don't grow too fond of Pansy, son. There's only one victor. If you come back, you'll marry Astoria or Daphné Greengrass.". Draco is shocked, to say the least. He knew his father wasn't one to show pity or compassion, but he had already found a substitute to be his wife? Was this absurdity ever going to end? The blond pulls a face, and looks away. "Win the games, Draco" pleads Lucius, and for the first time in his life, Draco is surprised to find in his eyes, the paternal love his father was so keen on hiding.

After all these years, all it took was for him to get chosen in a game, where he had to fight for his own life. Well, if that was the case he would have volunteered a long time ago, he thought bitterly to himself. Maybe his father did care about him somewhere deep down. He just thought that showing any kind of emotion was a weakness. Maybe he believed that Draco was better off if he wasn't ruled by his own emotions. ''I will, father.'' He says confidently. And if he's confident about one thing, it's that he will win the games. He believes in his own ability to do it. And Pansy just handed him the perfect weapon. His father looks at him for a long time, and Draco expects a hug from him, but it never comes. Of course it doesn't. They don't show affection. ''I know you will.'' He answers instead, but there's still an underlying pleading quality in his voice.

For the last thirty seconds, they look at each other in the eyes, and Draco can't help thinking they told each other more with a simple look than in seventeen years of life. He smiles sadly, and so does Lucius, and finally a Peacekeeper asks him to say goodbye. Lucius doesn't, and Draco knows it's his own way of saying, 'Now is no time to bid our farewell'. To this thought, his heart warms strangely.

Theodore Nott comes into the room a few minutes later, followed closely by Millicent.

Theodore hates Draco since he rejected his advances, one year ago. But the blond knows he won't dare to go in an open war against Lucius Malfoy's son. "So, Malfoy, not so proud?" he sniggers. Millicent just sighs and gets past Nott to put her hands on Draco's shoulders, "We won't let you down. There's victor material in you.".

Theodore looks Draco up and down and smirks. ''Well, unless pretty boy here doesn't want to get dirty.'' Draco just looks coldly at Nott. ''Don't worry, Nott. I assure you that I'm quite capable of more than you can imagine.'' This only makes Theodore grin and take a step closer to Draco. ''Mh, I'm sure you are.'' Milicent steps in front of them and pushes Theodore out of the way. ''Enough! We don't have time for this. We have a train to catch guys, and Pansy Parkinson will be here in a minute.'' Just as she said that, Pansy strolled through the door, automatically linking her arm through Draco's. She looks expectantly at the others like an excited child. Draco wants to laugh because Pansy's must have mistaken the true reality behind the Hunger Games. She truly believes they will win this together. She's probably already dreaming up scenarios of their future life together as victors. The first _married_ victors. Being praised by public everywhere they go. She will be sadly mistaken. She'll never live to see her 19th birthday. She'll never get her dream wedding, and she'll never get him.

In a way, Draco is sorry for her, and feels guilty about his own behavior. But it's not like he promised her anything. Poor pathetic helpless Pansy. He smiles again, and the Peacekeepers motion for them to board the train. Already, the little brunette is stuck to his arm like a rock to its mussel. She's marveling on the design of said train, and looks at Draco like they share some top secret information while she winks towards him. He rolls his eyes and disentangles himself from her firm grip, and sits heavily on a chair. He doesn't give the wagon a second glance, he's already used to luxury and food. He feels alone. Draco excuses himself from his comrades and locks himself in the restroom to throw up his Breakfast in the toilets.

He stands in front of the sink and dry heaves, because there's nothing more to vomit. He looks at his pale figure in the mirror and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. He doesn't know why this feeling is suddenly eating him away. But the feeling of loneliness slams into him with such a great force. He feels utterly alone and dejected. His cold demeanor falters and he's left with the real him. He's not afraid, but this feels like a nightmare. The Panem and every single district will be watching his every move. He doesn't care about the killing. He's selfish. He doesn't feel anything towards other people. It's not that he approves of the games or the killing of innocent children, because he doesn't. Not at all. He hates this sick human nature that allows them to become cold-blooded muderers. But if killing them would lead to his own survival, he would do it. There's no other way around. He just doesn't want to be more controlled than he already is. He doesn't want to be the source of entertainment for other people.

"Dra~co?" mewls Pansy "Are you alright in there?". Draco can't stand her attitude anymore and barks "Leave me the fuck alone! I don't need you, I don't need to hear your whining and meaningless chatting any longer!". For the first time in years, Pansy shuts up. For approximately thirty seconds. "Is that your way of telling me I should put my mouth to other uses, Drakey-pooh?" she asks in her sickening sweet voice, and he feels like throwing up again.

He considers the idea for a moment. He could use some relaxation and to get all of this tension away. It was only a fleeting thought because he immediately shudders when he imagines Pansy all over him, and her mouth on places he certainly doesn't want it to be. What a repulsing thought. He must have had a brain meltdown for even letting this idea traverse his mind. Pansy would be sorely mistaken the moment she would realize he would never get it up for her. ''Yes!'' He snaps at her. ''Go put that pretty mouth of yours to use somewhere else! Preferably entertain those morons in there with gossips. I don't need them to start looking after me.'' He hears Pansy sigh on the other side, and has a mental image of her annoying pout that's probably plastered on her face right at this moment. ''Oh, Drake. The things I wouldn't do for you.'' She says dramatically. ''I promise to make you relax tonight.'' She purrs. Not bloody likely, Draco thinks to himself.

He washes his face, happy to feel the cool water on his skin. When he's done, he puts a hand in his trousers to start wanking, but can't find any image to turn him on. He curses himself. He's a seventeen years old boy, for gods sake! He's not supposed to be already impotent! Defeated, he washes his hands and prepares himself to go out and face the world. He's welcomed by the unpleasant sight of Theodore Nott, waiting for him "What were you doing in there, Drakey-pooh?" he mimics, the smirk never leaving his tacky face.

Draco just looks haughtily at him. ''That, Nott, is none of your business. Am I not allowed privacy?'' He wished that Nott would be in the games too, so he could kill him with his bare hands. How hard could it be to understand that he wanted nothing to do with him. Was he really that dumb? He had rejected him more times than he could count on both hands. ''Of course you are, Malfoy. Forgive me. I just wanted to see if you were doing okay.'' Oh, Draco thought. Nott had decided on different tactics now. Not that it would work. He probably thought being more polite would give him a ticket into his trousers.

''I'm fine,'' Draco sneered. ''No need to follow me around like a dog. Find someone else you can hump, Nott.'' Suddenly Nott looked angry. He tried to tower over Draco, and yes, he did look quite intimidating, but it didn't really bother Draco. ''Why, you little shit. Think you're too good for me? I'm a victor, remember. You should be happy that I'm even giving you this bit of attention. I always get what I want, remember that. It would be wise. I'm your ticket to win this game.'' With that he turned on his heel, leaving Draco behind.

Is he blackmailing me into doing him sexual favors? Wonders Draco, unbelievingly. He can go fuck himself for all I care, there's no way I'll comply to his twisted requests. Under Millicent's calculating look, he storms out of the room to confine himself in the safety of his cabin, where he's sure to find no naked Pansy nor brimming Theodore. Even though it's only 18:00, he switches off the lights and curls up on his bed, hoping that he'll never have to get out again.

When he wakes up he looks at the tiny clock display that's reflected on the wall and groans. This is just perfect. It's two in the morning and he's completely rested. He tries to go back to sleep, but to no avail since he's restless. Slowly he drags his body out of the bed and searches for the bathroom. He would take a nice long shower and maybe find something to eat. It would probably be wise to eat as much as he can, while the food is available. Once he stood under the shower, he let the hot steamy water wash all his tension away.

He wonders what will happen once he's in the arena. He doesn't want to die, he never had the time to move from his father's shadow. Sleepily, he enumerates his strengths, and is pleased to realize that they are pretty numerous. He knows how to use a bow, and a spear. He's observing, discreet and sneaky, he's fast, and pretty good at tracking people. But on the other hand, he doesn't know how to hunt and this will prove itself to be a serious problem once the game begins. His reactions are not very quick, and if he's startled he doesn't know how to act fast enough. Theodore is also one of his weaknesses: the boy will probably do everything in his power to get him to die in the arena. He can't dwell too much on the prospect of not receiving any parachutes.

It would probably be wise to be on good terms with Theodore Nott, but it's impossible. He only wants one thing, and it's a thing Draco would never give him. Even if his life depended on it. Which it does, in a way, he supposes. He decides to go out and search for some food. He has to go through several wagons until he finally reaches the one with the dining table. As soon as he's there he wants to turn around on the spot again, when he sees who's sitting at the table. This is just perfect. One would expect to be alone in the middle of the night, but oh no. This bloody nightmare of a girl seems to automatically appear wherever he is. She turns her head once Draco steps inside, and she's already getting to her feet. ''Draco, darling! Can't sleep, hm?'' She purrs as she slowly stalks towards him. Looking like a cat that's ready to attack its prey. ''Maybe I could help you with that.'' He quickly steps aside, avoiding her, and walks over to the table fast, sitting down before she can reach him.

"What's the matter, love?" she asks, confused, and Draco really wants to remove his helmet and yell " I AINT NO LOVE" in the Eowyn style, but keeps himself with a blank face. Inside, he's boiling. "Pansy, you're annoying me. I need some time alone right now, and you're acting like a child.". She pouts and looks at him with her big brown eyes "Be careful, I might start to believe you don't really like me.". Draco really wants to dance for this small victory, but snarls instead "Oh, really, and what gave you the hint?". Instead of the streams of tears he's waiting for, he hears her annoying giggle "Oh, Drakey-Pooh, for a moment I almost believed you.". She puts a kiss on his cheek and exits the room, still laughing.

Maybe he should just get rid of her from the beginning, he considers. That way he won't have a mental breakdown in the Arena because of her. Kudos to Pansy, for always making him loose his appetite. The others won't be up before seven probably, so he has a lot of time on his own. He slams his head repeatedly down on the table and curses everyone around him to hell. Why was he stuck with a mentor like Nott. There was no way he would prepare Draco the best he could, unless Draco's willing to give something in return. That bastard. He wonders what would happen if he killed Nott before the Games.

He must have fallen asleep at the table sometime during the night. Someone is shaking his shoulder and breathing into his ear. ''Wake up, Pretty boy.'' Well, fuck him. Why did Nott have to be the first one to wake up.

"Don't touch me, Nott" drawls Draco, as Theodore's hand lingers more than necessary on his back. Theodore chuckles and sits in front of him "Have you thought about my proposition, Malfoy?".

The blond doesn't know if his interlocutor is trying to sound sensual, but if he is, it's a major failure. "I have. I refuse.". He relaxes in his chair "If I don't have your support, granted, I'll win without your help. But be sure that my father will hear about this.". Like half of the district, Theodore is afraid of Lucius Malfoy's wrath. He shudders. "Do you think you're in position to make threaths, Malfoy ?" he hisses. Draco lifts an eyebrow and sneers "I don't know ... Am I?".

Nott doesn't really have a reply to that, so he keeps quiet. For a minute. ''There is no need for all of that arrogance, Malfoy.'' Draco just rolls his eyes, not really wanting to keep up a conversation with him. ''Good morning boys!'' Flitwick's cheerful voice booms. He may be small but his voice is certainly loud. ''Good morning.'' Draco greets. ''Ah, breakfast will be here in a minute. Make sure to eat well. Then we'll discuss your weaknesses and strengths. We are in a hurry, we'll be there soon.'' Not long after that, Pansy and Milicent strolls in and takes place at the table. Pansy takes a seat beside Draco, and as always, kisses him on the cheek. ''Don't worry. Draco and I will make a strong team, won't we, darling?'' Milicent just smirks at Draco at Pansy's comment. She's probably figured out that he can't stand her, but she doesn't say anything, luckily.

"I'm sure we will" he ironizes, as he starts to contemplate how he's going to kill her. He could drown her. It wouldn't be too messy. Or he could pick some toxic berries accidentally. And feed them to her. "I'm good with a bow, a spear, and I run fast" he says quickly, only looking at Millicent. She nods. "That's a good start. What about you, Pansy?". Said Pansy is eating a small salad - she doesn't want to be fat, she says - "I'm good with a sword and a knife. I know where to stab someone so they won't ever get up again." she sports an unpleasant smile, one that says that she will probably enjoy every murder. "What about weaknesses?" Snaps Theodore, looking at Draco. "I don't know how to find food." he tells them bluntly "And my reactions are not very fast when it comes to surprise attacks". Pansy gives him an enamored gaze "My weakness is Draco" she says dramatically.

At this Milicent looks slightly annoyed and nauseous. ''Parkinson, we need to know about your weaknesses, not about your obsession.'' At this Pansy shoots her a glare and replies defiantly. ''I told you, my weakness is Draco. But oh well, if you must know, I don't really consider myself as someone that has weaknesses.'' Draco snorts at this, but hurriedly hides it. Well, Pansy is actually telling the truth. Draco will be her weakness that will lead her to her own death. He can toy with her, and manipulate her as he sees fit. ''You don't have any weaknesses?'' Nott asks flatly. ''No.'' She replies confidently, not looking at Nott, but instead looking straight at Draco. ''Don't be silly girl. Overconfidence will kill you in that Arena. This is not some childish innocent game.'' Draco can hear Nott getting impatient with Pansy. Well, he can't really blame him. Patience is a rare trait when you're dealing with Pansy.

"Don't try." interrupts Draco "When her mind is set, it's impossible to change it. If she says she doesn't have any weakness, she doesn't. She's more stubborn than a mule." he sighs heavily. He doesn't want to go in a row, especially against Pansy. He has had enough of them already. Millicent sends him a sympathetic look and mouths "Later" discretely. He wags his head inconspicuously. It's good to know that the young woman is on his team. "Have you seen the other tributes yet?" he asks neutrally.

''Yes we have.'' Replies Nott. ''We've seen some of them. There's a boy from District 7 that seems pretty brutal. I can't remember his name, but I would watch out for him, if I were you. He's probably one of them that will stand his ground at the bloodbath.'' Draco makes a mental note to check out district 7's tributes once he sees them. He's always been good at reading people. He'll try to figure out how to deal with everyone, once the time comes when they'll be introduced to each other.

''The others we saw are hard to figure out. We won't know anything before each has been given a final score for abilities.'' Draco nods at this. Of course, even then many of them will try their best to hide their strengths. Draco will just have to observe as thoroughly as he can.

"The Capitol!" Pansy suddenly shrieks, running to the window and making Draco jump, startled. He gives a bored glare to the landscape. He has already seen President Riddle's siege, thanks to his father, and has been to the Capitol a couple of times, much to his brethren jealousy. He doesn't feel privileged. But for Pansy, it's her first time here, and she keeps making "Awwww" noises. "Look how beautiful it is ..." she admired. "I don't think it is." he snaps.

''But Drake, look!'' She gushes, and can't really figure out where to point first. She's so enthralled by the whole view. Draco doesn't even stand up to look out at the Capitol.

He's rather bored, and the whole scenery is just beyond ridiculous. Those people are nothing but freaks of nature. Their twisted opinions on everything is sickening. In fact, every single thing is sickening about the Capitol. He hates it with a passion. He wonders how life was before all of this.

The train slows down, and finally stops in front of a crowded Station. Draco doesn't look at the people that has come to welcome them, whereas Pansy is subjugated by the Reception committee. They sport colorful clothes, eccentric hair and ridiculous make up. They already show a banner claiming "District 1's stars crossed lovers" with a lot of glitters and stars and some of them start to sing a popular song "And as I finish to lace my stilettos, to the party he goes, I'll probably meet him in a dark bar, in an hidden corner he'll call me his moonlight star...". Pansy claps her hands excitedly and smiles to their utter delight. They are lead inside of a car, then driven in front of a modern building. "Time for the make over" sneers Nott. "Not that you need it, pretty boy."

''Oh, I know, Nott.'' Draco says lightly and smirks. Milicent sighs, ''Boys! Enough!'' A group of peacekeepers leads them inside the building and directly to the rooms where the makeover will take place. They are introduced to three people; Rabastan, Yaxley and Penelope. Pansy stares completely mesmerized at them. He can't really figure out why she's so amazed by these people. The woman's all dressed in pink. Her bubble dress does nothing for her figure, and her baby pink wig is probably supposed to make the whole look appear complete. Even her makeup is kept in pink shades. Draco wants to shudder at the sight before them. These people have absolutely no fashion sense. The two men wears different shades of blue and their look appears to be oddly more normal looking than the woman's. That is, if you disregard the eye catching blue colors that decorates their suites and their painted faces.

No sooner said than done, he lies on an uncomfortable surface, surrounded by Yaxley and Penelope. "This boy sure knows how to take care of himself" she compliments, before muttering "Ponce.".

Draco had never been naked in front of anyone, and he feels vulnerable under their stares. "He just need some tonic and a moisturizer" declares Yaxley, and soon he's covered with cream, and massaged with expert hands. Finally, they rinse his body, and motion him to stand in front of a huge mirror. "You have nice hair" says Penelope, envious, before applying a shampoo on it.

''No need for a wig, luckily.'' Draco mutters sarcastically. Penelope just ignores his comment, ''We'll just make his hair more radiating.'' She tells Yaxley, who just nods.

After the shampoo they apply conditioner and dries his hair. Yaxley takes a jar with a glowing substance and starts applying it on his hair. Combing his fingers through Draco's hair, while he hums an annoying melody under his breath. It appears to be the same one the people waiting for them at the station had sung. Did these people really believe that they were star-crossed-lovers? ''There. There's really not much to do. You're flawless, young man. It's great to see people actually taking care of themselves.'' Draco just looks at him with indifference and feigns boredom.

After they discards the products they exit the room, leaving Draco alone. He has an urge to cover himself, but there isn't any clothing nearby.

A tanned man comes in and smiles to Draco, looking positively delighted. "Hey Draco Malfoy. I'm Blaise Zabini, and you can call me anything you want, as long as it's not zucchini.", he winces "My fiancée calls me that. She finds it endearing, but then again, she believes Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are mutations from the Capitol.". For the first time in days, Draco laughs "She sounds quite ... Original ...". "She is." Affirms Blaise, with a small dreamy smile "But she's great. Anyway." he interrupts himself to nod at Pansy "I'm going to be your stylist for this ceremony. Nobody will ignore you after that, I promise.". For the first time, Draco takes a look at Blaise's clothing and is relieved to note he doesn't wear anything extravagant, except for his Radish earring. He gives Draco an apologetic glance and mouth "Fiancée".

This time Draco smiles warmly. A real genuine smile. This man standing before him is nothing like the other people he had met. Neither here, nor at home. ''We'll make you stand out at the opening ceremony. I created this outfit with my lovely fiancée. It will represent your district rather well.'' Blaise walks over to a wardrobe Draco hadn't seen before now. It seemed like it had appeared out of nowhere. Well, that wouldn't be something new. Since these people here just pushed a button, and all kinds of food would appear before your eyes.

He came back with whatever he had pulled out of the wardrobe and stood in front of Draco. ''This, Draco, is what you will wear. You will look gorgeous.'' He held out a short white toga in front of Draco, and stared proudly at it. It was quite simple, but yet stunning. ''You'll probably need some help getting in.'' Blaise nodded to himself, and then beckoned for Draco to stand up. Finally they managed to make it look presentable on him, and he loved the feeling of the material against his body.

Blaise made him wear leather winged sandals, and a winged golden helmet ,that Draco wanted to complain about. He wasn't really fond of them, but decided to keep quiet. Blaise looked too proud of his handiwork and Draco didn't want to ruin that. He liked Blaise. He seemed more genuine than the others. Draco almost jumped on the place when Blaise smacked himself on the forehead. ''I forgot! The final thing to make your look complete.'' He went back to the wardrobe and fumbled after something while he muttered under his breath, ''Where is it? Did I forget?... No, I couldn't, could I? Ah, here!'' He almost ran all the way back and held something in front of Draco's face. A staff, Draco noticed. It was golden and entwined by two serpents, with small wings on the top. It looked a bit like his father's.

It takes a few seconds to proceed for Draco, but finally he says "Am I Hermes?". Blaise nods, pride written all over his face "I know your district is mainly known for its luxury items, so it's a golden helmet, and the material for the toga is from the finest fabric. The most expensive too. It also came to my attention that your district is the one producing medication, and Hermes is the God of Medicine, along with travelers, thieves and ... Er ... ", Draco completed with a lopsided grin "Commerce, literature, poetry, yes, yes, I know. It's great, thank you Zucchini.". Blaise growls playfully "Shut up, arsehole. I knew I shouldn't have told you, you look far too sneaky for your own good. Ponce.". Draco lets out an offended exclamation "I'm not a ponce! I just have a delicate constitution.".

Zabini laughs and shouts before running out of the room "Keep telling yourself that!". The young man rolls his eyes, and follows him out in the corridor, fast enough to see a little blond girl being pursued by a handsome brunette. His eyes lingers on the distancing silhouette and he runs after Blaise to ask, zealous "Who the fuck was that?". Blaise pulls a face "My fiancée, so touch with the eyes, would you?". The blond rolls his eyes "Not her! The boy with her!". The tanned man snickers "Probably another tribute, she was assigned to district 4 this year. Let's go and see your little girlfriend." he keeps walking and coughs "Told you. Ponce.".

''I am not a ponce!'' Draco huffs. ''I was just stating a fact. He _was_ quite handsome.''. ''Yes, yes, but the Niles isn't just a river in Egypt. You only saw him for two seconds.'' Blaise grinned. ''Well, yes. But I'm a great observer. And I have a good eye for... Pretty things.'' Draco turned his head back for good measure, just to see if the boy suddenly had appeared again. No such luck. ''Ponce.'' Blaise just said again, laughing.

They entered the room where Pansy was, standing in all her glory, looking like a greek goddess. ''Ah, you managed to turn the focus away from her pug-face.'' Draco whispered to Blaise. Well, she did look quite stunning too. You couldn't really deny that. She had a long white dress with a leather corset. It defined her hourglass figure rather beautifully. Women would kill for Pansy's body.

As accessories, she wore a Medusa Shield and a blue stole wound around her shoulder and waist. Her long curly brown hair were crowned by a bronze helmet, and if he didn't already knew her, he would have found her beautiful. Unfortunately, the moment was broken when her high-pitched voice resonated in the empty room, and she exclaimed "Drakey-Pooh! Now we're like husband and wife, Hermes and Artemis.". He curls up his upper lips and frowns "You're Athena, not Artemis, and they were certainly not married. Plus, Athena made a vow of virginity to her father, Zeus.". She laughs "She did, but I certainly didn't.". Could she be anymore obvious, he wonders, irritated.

She winked at him and blew him an air kiss. Probably trying to look cute, but this was Pansy. She couldn't be described as cute. ''I'll come by tonight, darling. We could both use some stress relief.'' Dear god. Had this woman any situational sense. How could someone talk like that in front of other people. Didn't she realize how cheap and slutty she sounded.

Blaise seemed to sense Draco's growing irritation and hurriedly tried to avoid Draco finally snapping. ''So!'' He exclaimed. ''We should prepare you for the opening ceremony. You'll be the first to go in, since you're from District 1. And what a grand entrance you'll make!'', He said proudly, looking at their outfits again. ''Let's go find your mentors and then line up.''

They followed Blaise out and went in search for Milicent and Theodore. The moment Theodore laid his eyes on Draco, he wanted to kill him on the spot. His eyes immediately darkened and he didn't even try to hide his obvious lust. He stared Draco hungrily up and down as he walked closer to Draco, until he stood right in front of him. The others didn't seem to realize what was going on, as they were discussing something with Milicent. Nott leaned in until his lips were mere inches from Draco's ear. He murmured huskily, ''You know, I can help you win this. You'll have every sponsor at your feet, Malfoy. I promise you that. I only require a show of your talents... In private.'' Draco jerked back and pushed Nott with such a great force that he almost stumbled to the ground. Blaise immediately turned around, ''What's going on?'' He demanded. ''Nothing.'' Draco answered shortly, while shooting Nott a murderous glare. ''Absolutely nothing.''

They made their way to the first carriage , of which the horses were so decorated it was at the very limit of being vulgar. Draco cringed but climbed on the chariot and looked around to seek for the boy he had seen earlier. Blaise, understanding his purpose, snickered and said in a taunting voice "Di~strict 4". Millicent followed shortly and told them "Hold your head high. You have every reason to be proud, and you have to show them. Don't forget to smile-" she looked at Pansy who was smiling so forcefully it must have hurt her cheeks "But don't overdo it either.". They nodded their understanding, and the first notes of the national hymn resonated in the bleachers. It was time.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Harry was impressed, to say the least. The circus that welcomed his eyes was grandiose. The bleachers were full of oddly dressed people applauding madly. Playing the game, despite his own reluctance, Harry smiled and waved towards them, embellishing his presentation with a few humble bows and some kisses in anonymous girls' directions. The blond boy from earlier was nowhere in sight, and Harry couldn't help being disappointed. Not knowing why, he was curious about the tribute's identity. The carriage made a last turn and all the carts disposed themselves in a semicircle in front of a high tribune. "Just in case we didn't know how inferior we were" grumbled Harry to himself. Then president Riddle, surrounded by two cameras, made his apparition in front of them. He was strange, and scary. His head was devoid of any hair. His skin was pale, his eyes were red and his nose nonexistent. He looked like a snake. A cruel, terrific one. Harry felt the attentive eyes of the monster on him and he couldn't help but shudder.

"Welcome, welcome, Tributes, We welcome you.'' He hissed with a nasty smile. Was it on purpose this man even sounded like a snake? ''We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you happy Hunger Games'' then he paused for a dramatic effect and looked gleefully around, ''and may the odds be ever in your favor.'' Harry looked around at the other tributes. Searching their faces for any traces of dread, because that was what he was feeling right now. His gaze landed on the blonde boy again. He was looking straight ahead, face avoid of any revealing emotions. He must have sensed someone was starring at him because he turned his head towards Harry's direction and made eye-contact with him. They locked eyes, none of them blinking. Cold grey eyes was looking right at him, but even if his life depended on it he couldn't break the eye-contact. He didn't want to. It was like a silent competition. Harry's eyed widened as the boy was suddenly smirking at him. What the hell was he up to?

Before he could spare it another thought, the carriages began to move again and he had to break their staring competition, much to his regret. They went back to where they came from, under the folk's enthusiastic screams, being showered by flowers and petals. When they were finally protected from the crowd's fervor, Harry allowed a sigh to cross the barrier of his mouth. "Fuck." he swore to himself, and received a hit from a foreign hand, before realizing it was only Hermione "Language, Harry!" she berated him, before giving him a brilliant smile "You were great! I'm so proud to be your best friend, Harry! I mean ... I was so impressed, you looked handsome, proud, powerful and charming." she continued for a few minutes, describing how wonderful he was, before turning towards Cho and give her the same speech. Harry lost track of the conversation and searched for the Tribute from district 1. There was something about him, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

''You doing okay?'' Someone asked. Harry turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw Remus smiling warmly at him. ''Yeah, m'fine.'' Harry mumbled, still distracted by his thoughts. ''Well, come on then. We'll settle down in our quarters.''

Cho and Harry followed closely behind Hermione and Remus. ''Where's Gilderoy?'' Cho asked. Harry smiled slightly at her, she had only spoken a few words since they came to the Capitol. It was encouraging that she was at least saying something and not keeping quiet all the time. ''Oh, he's probably already in our quarters.'' Hermione sighed, looking annoyed. ''It was the first place he went, when we came. But he's always basked in all things expensive.'' They reached an elevator and stepped in. ''Fourth floor.'' Remus said while he pressed a tiny golden button with the number 4 on it, ''That's where we will be staying.'' The elevator began to move upwards and Harry started to giggle like a fool, as he got that fluttery feeling. It moved with such a great speed that you felt a rush going through your and Remus just stared at Harry with amused looks. If he was five, he would probably have yelled, ''Again, again, again.''

"You're such a child ..." grinned Hermione, putting a strand of his hair behind the ear affectionately, reveling his scar "And you're a bitch." Harry whistled playfully "But I don't complain". He pulled her into a hug. It seemed that the prospect of his imminent dead led him to show more affection to his loved ones than before. He heard Cho chuckled next to them so he sent her a kind smile as well. In all honesty, he didn't want to get to know her. Because it would hurt too much when she was going to die. He had already started to distance himself from the girl. "So, what's up with you and the blond boy?" Hermione asked innocently "You both looked like you were to going to murder each other ..." she left her sentence unfinished before adding "Or shag each other senseless." He shrugged "Nah. I'm just intrigued. He looked ... different. I don't know why.". The doors of the elevator opened and the new visitors eyes widened in surprise "Wow, is this a fucking palace or something?" Harry wondered out loud, taking a good look at his surroundings.

It certainly was quite impressive. Every single little thing was high technological. There was a gadget to everything. By the press of a button you could literally get almost anything you wanted. A pink radiating disaster appeared before them, until Harry realized it was Lockhart. Dressed in fuchsia again. ''Ah, The tributes!'' He said excitedly. Why was it that man never called them by their names. He had probably already forgotten them. He was too self-absorbed to remember any other names than his own. ''Isn't this place marvelous?'' He gushed and looked around like he was in heaven. It seemed like everyone ignored him and instead started to look around, discovering more wonders of these quarters. Well, luckily I at least get to try to live like a king for a couple of days, before I have to go out and fight for my own life, Harry thought to himself, as he searched for the room he was going to stay in. He finally reached it and opened the door, walking in excitedly. He spun around on the spot, taking everything in. He had never seen luxury like this, even if he came from quite a wealthy district. He immediately started to try every gadget out. Just to see what it would do.

But even in this pricey environment, Harry found himself missing the ocean, the calmness brought to him by watching it move in a tranquil languor that only came from the depths of the sea, where everything remained untouched by the black hand of humanity. He suddenly felt homesick, and ran to the bathroom to take a bath and welcome the touch of the water on his bare skin. Only then did he allow himself to breathe. He felt claustrophobic, in this city where he was nothing more than a prisoner, soon to be a gladiator thrown in an arena full of tawny. He wasn't prepared. Prepared to die, prepared to kill, prepared to see someone being murdered. His daydreaming brought the thought of his two parents, and his heart sank. That was certainly not what they had wanted for him. In fact, that was exactly what they had fought against, hoping their son would escape the burden of going to the Hunger Games, along with every child of Panem. They had fought for a better future, breaking from the influence the Capitol had upon them, and there he was, their boy, complying to the rules, bowing to those who had killed his mother and father. He wondered if his "nomination" to the Hunger Games was set up by Riddle to show the folk that nobody ever escaped their judgement. It was commonly known in District 4 that Harry was born from rebels, which explained why he had so few friends. No one wanted to associate with an enemy of the Capitol.

It knocked on the door and Hermione appeared. She walked into the room without being invited in, an sat down on the big bed that was in the corner of the room. ''What's wrong?'' She asked, frowning at him. ''Nothing.'' Harry said, and looked away. Different thoughts were swirling through his head and he couldn't stop his growing anger or frustration. Or his suddenly longing after home and his dead parents. ''Come.'' Hermione patted the bed and smiled sadly at him. He shuffled over to the bed and slumped down, staring at the ceiling. ''I know how you feel.'' She whispered. ''No you don't.'' Was his immediate response, but then he winced, ''Sorry. I-'' of course she did know. She had been in the exact same spot. ''Shh, it's alright to be upset.'' She laid a hand calmly on his wrist and traced a pattern with her thumb. ''The reality is suddenly crashing down on you, right? Finally you get a moment of peace but then your mind can finally start to wander.'' Harry squeezed his eyes shut, ''Yeah.'' He whispered. Afraid to say more because of the threatening lump in his throat. Hermione laid down beside him looking at him for a moment before she laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes, still holding his wrist. ''It'll be alright. Don't you worry,'' was said aloud this time.

Half an hour later, Harry was woken up by the sound of a clamor outside. He looked at his watch. In one hour, they would have to go downstairs to eat with the other tributes. He yawned, and let his gaze wander on Hermione's body. He couldn't help the thought that crossed him. It was stupid, really, but he really didn't want to die a virgin. And the young woman was his best friend, surely she would agree to ... ? He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and watched her emerge slowly from her sleep. She blinked sleepily in his direction. "'Re you 'lright, 'Ry ?" she mumbled. He didn't answer and stoop to depose a chaste kiss on her lips. Since she didn't seem to mind, he kissed her again, letting his tongue caress her mouth in a sensual way. She opened it to deepen the kiss, and soon they were breathing heavily, sharing the most intimate embrace of their friendship. Then, Hermione pushed him away, looking horrified with herself "Shit, Harry, why did you do that?" she almost shrieked. Harry tried to kiss her again, but she stood up, crossing her arms, "Harry James Potter, did you, or did you not kiss me because of the Games to come!". He pouted childishly "Don't tell me you didn't like it."  
She humphed, "That's not the question! You're like a brother to me, and I know you think of me as your sister! Plus, you don't even swing that way!". "That's not true!" Harry stuttered, a bit embarrassed "I mean, it is, but that's not the point!"

''Oh my god, I can't believe you would try something like that just because of the games!'' She shrieked, still horrified with herself. ''Shit, I'm sorry 'Mione. I-I.. I didn't really think.'' Harry felt sickened by himself. Hermione was his best friend, how could he even use her like that. Just to satisfy his own need in such a dire state, when death was looming over his head. ''Let's just forget it ever happened.'' Hermione said, without looking him in the eyes. Had he just ruined their friendship? He hoped not. She was the only one that made him feel like he at least had one family member. His aunt and uncle didn't really count, since they had never included him in their perfect little family. ''Hermione, I am really sorry.'' he said desperately this time. Finally she looked at him, her gaze soft, warm and still loving. But it was a love between a brother and sister. Nothing more or less. ''You won't die.'' She said, her gaze locked with his. Not flinching a bit. She just stared calmly at him. ''You have a whole life to live.'' She then broke her gaze, ''We'll be late for dinner. We should go.'' She then took his hand in hers, and slowly they made their way out of the room to find the others.

On their way though, Hermione decided to tease Harry on what just happened, as a mean, he knew it, to show she had forgiven him "So Harry, where did you learn to kiss like that ?" she asked, curious "Because, not that I kissed a lot of people before, but you were quite good.". He blushed and looked away "Two years ago, the Dursleys hired a stable boy. Let's say I did a bit of experimenting. It didn't go further than kissing, but it made me realize I was gay." She laughed "My, my Harry. What a mysterious man you are. Why didn't you tell me?" he chuckled good-naturedly "What, you wanted me to go and tell you 'Hey, Hermione, guess what, I kissed a stable boy and I liked it?". She rolled her eyes and chose ti ignore him. When they arrived in the big dinning room, Gilderoy in his fuchsia ensemble waved exuberantly to them, while laughing with a little man, no taller than Harry's legs. "Tribute! Come here, boy" Harry gave a nod to the dwarf and sat next to Hermione, smiling knowingly at her. Her little crush on Lockhart couldn't help but amuse him.

As usual, the table was full of delicious dishes, and the entrée seemed to be an assortment of seafood, including lobsters, crayfish, shrimp, oyster, molds, accompanied by lemon juice, tapenade and a plateful of little toasts. Harry pulled a face. He hated seafood, apart from fish. It made him nauseous, and he turned his eyes away from the lean legs of a crayfish that looked at him with his dead little black eyes. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's antics, as she took an oyster and savored it with a moan. "This is delicious, Harry." said Cho "Why don't you take some?". Harry ignored her and stared at the other tables. His emerald iris' fell on a familiar blond figure. The boy frowned, as the tribute of district 1 shared pleasantries with his comrades in an upper-class manner, whipping his mouth after an oyster and smiling charmingly at the girl in front of him.

Harry felt slightly annoyed by the boy because he knew he felt superior to everyone else around him. If you just took one look at him you could see it. Harry was sure that the boy's own superiority would bring him down in the Arena. He was probably one of them that thought they didn't need to be careful, that they could defeat whoever they wished. Harry was suddenly grinning like a mad, he was sure he could take the boy out fast. He would just have to make sure to figure out his weaknesses.

''Don't you think so, Harry?'' Remus was asking him. ''Sorry what?'' Harry mumbled, still distracted by observing that annoying tribute. ''We were just discussing that one shouldn't underestimate some of these tributes.'' He repeated with a knowing glint in his eyes, looking at Harry. He snapped his attention back to Remus and shrugged. ''I'm not underestimating anyone. I've seen other games. How people play dumb just to get the other tributes to leave them alone for a long while.'' It was true. Some had won in the most simple but yet genius way. ''We should talk about tactics.'' Hermione added, nodding to herself.

"Now is no time to talk about tactics!" chided Lockharts, like he was berating a small child "Now is time to enjoy our supper and make small talks!" he laughed as he nodded to himself "I mean, have you seen how some of the escorts look? I must be the more fashionable one! And being a dwarf, it's SO last year!" he added the last sentence, looking at his colleague warily, like he was afraid to be heard. "It's not like he can change that ..." observed Hermione. He waved her interference indifferently, like she hadn't say a word "Nonsense.". She humphed, a bit vexed. Harry stopped listening to the conversation, as usual, and looked at the tributes he hadn't had the chance to observe yet.

He slowly began to observe the other tributes. Especially noticing a tall red haired, quite too thin boy wolfing down food like it was his last meal. Well, it almost was. Beside him was a brown haired girl and it looked like she was sulking about something their mentor had said to them. They were tributes from District 12, a district that rarely had any winners. Harry felt sorry for those tributes. Especially the boy looked like one who couldn't do any harm, but as Remus said, one should never underestimate the other tributes, never. The boy didn't pay attention to anything but the food. Harry smiled a little, just from one look fully believing they would have been friends if they had been from the same district.

His attention returned full force to the tribute from district 1, hearing yelling in his direction. He seemed to be severely irritated by his mentor, a boy with a rodent look and prominent teeth. From here, Harry could barely understand the muffled voice of his opponent. "...op touching me you sick fuck". The sandy haired mentor smirked and replied in a low purr "Let's see how the Barbie doll is going to win the game if she's not ready to give me what she wants." A barbie doll? What was a barbie doll, he wondered. Hermione, who was listening the discussion as well met his stare and shrugged.

The boy was glaring at his mentor, not uttering any more words, just keeping quiet. There seemed to be a lot of tension between those two. At least this could work in Harry's favor. If the tributes couldn't cooperate with their mentor they were literally screwed. They depended on their mentor a lot. ''Why so quiet?'' The mentor was asking now, but the boy fully ignored him, turning his attention to the girl, but still looking slightly annoyed. ''They've been like that since they came here.'' Hermione whispered. ''What? They don't get along with their mentor?'' Harry questioned, even though it was quite obvious. ''No, the boy doesn't.''

Suddenly, Harry was under the blond's stare. He blinked. The tribute looked at him like he exhaled a particularly nasty smell, and scowled in his direction. Harry rolled his eyes and ignored the guy's behavior. If he wanted to be unpleasant even before the games, it wasn't his fault, and he could very well hate him in silence. He didn't have to condone it. "Hermione, how are the other tributes?" he asked "Anybody looking more feral that I should be wary of?" She smiled and whispered "Avoid the tributes from district 1. I saw the boy discussing with President Riddle. This is not a good sign …" She sighed and yawned a bit tiredly. A waitress came to take all the plates (some of them still full), as another one sat different dishes on the table.

''He was talking with Riddle?'' Harry asked, getting curious. ''About what?'' Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, saying 'How should I know?' Harry just shrugged. ''But his father's good friends with the president.'' Harry turned his full attention to Hermione now. ''That boy's father is good friends with the president?'' Harry questioned amazed and annoyed at the same time. ''Oh yes.'' Hermione nodded. ''I don't know if it will be to his advantage though.'' Harry suddenly thought about how his father may have made a deal with the president concerning his son. That would be cheating, wouldn't it? But it was the capitol. They could get away with anything.

Harry ate a little, sparing a last glance in the tribute's direction, before getting up and asking the youngest of their little gathering to follow him. Cho accepted, as Hermione simply turned down the offer, absorbed in the observation of the other challengers. Harry rolled his eyes playfully, before heading back to their room, Cho following closely. Once seated in the comfy sofa, the young woman smiled gently "So, you and Hermione ?" she asked. Harry spat the water he was drinking. "What? Hermione and ... Oh my god, no!" she lifted an eyebrow "Oh ... I just thought, since you were kissing, earlier in the evening, that ..." He moved his head in denial "Of course not, nothing like that, it was just a ... slip ... It won't happen again. Hermione and me will never be anything else but friends" he grinned at the pretty asian "I guess, we were just freaking out, and, you know …" Cho nodded, even though she didn't understand.

Harry continued. ''It's just.. Everything we are doing right now, could be the last time we ever do it, you know. It's just.. I don't want to have any regrets. I know it sounds crazy, but yeah.'' He stared at Cho's blank face, sighing inwardly. Could she be any more oblivious? She would never survive out in that Arena. ''I... Don't want to forget anything either.'' She said, looking at him shyly and blushing prettily. Harry was afraid he knew where this was going, so he stood up, walking over to a window instead. ''Harry...'' Cho began, quietly and tentatively. He didn't turn around to look at her. He couldn't. ''Will you.. Bring back a message to my parents.''

He turned around at this, staring incredulous at her. ''You're already dooming yourself? And who says I'm going to be the one left standing?'' Cho got up from her seat and walked over to Harry. Standing right in front of him, searching for something as she was staring for a long while. ''You will be.'' She said simply. He was just opening his mouth to say something, and deny it, but she shushed him, a finger on his lips. ''Just do it. Please.''

He complied, looking at her closely. She wasn't in tears, which was a nice change from the other times. She was ... accepting her defeat to come, which was almost worst. He needed her to be at her best, or he would worry all the time. He couldn't afford worrying about her. "Tell them ..." she wavered "Tell them I loved them. And that I forgive them for selling my body." He opened his mouth, chocked beyond belief. "Selling your body?" he muttered, confused "Cho, did they ... Were you prostituting yourself?" She ignored him, validating his guess. "Tell them I also hate them for what they did to me. That I can't look in the mirror anymore because all I see and feel is ... their hands all over me" now, the tears. He blinked. Like she knew what he was thinking, she took his hand, and the closeness of their two bodies made him uneasy. Her face was already getting nearer and her intentions were pretty easy to understand.

He felt her lips on his, warm, wet, soft, and oh so wrong. He drew in a sharp breath, pushing her gently away. ''I.. I can't Cho.'' But no, it seemed like the girl could be insisting when she wanted to be. Her lips was on his again, and it seemed like she desperately wanted his body to react to hers, but nothing happened. Not on Harry's part. It was dull and there wasn't any spark of excitement. He grabbed her wrists while she was trying to zip down his pants. ''No.. Cho, please.'' Was she crazy? She just told what she had to go through because of her parents, and now she was practically forcing herself upon him. ''You're better than this.'' He said gently, dragging her into a warm hug. Immediately he felt hot tears against his neck. He held her tighter, letting her cry out.

DRACO'S POV

As it was supposed to be, the show was magnificent, and if it was not for the intriguing brunette, the blond might have appreciated the efforts the Capitol had put to organize it. He didn't see the time pass, and was surprised when the carriages started to move again, and he realized he had no idea what President Riddle had said to the crowd. He chewed on his bottom lips nervously, a habit he had try to lose, but to no avail. His eyes were blurry from the flash of the photographers, and the camera lights. The beginning of a headache started to form in the back of his head, and he massaged his neck uncomfortably, wanting nothing more but to be away from this place at this moment. There were too many people, too much noise, and he was tired and confused by all the things going on around him.

Blaise was congratulating them with a big smile, and Millicent was patting his back. Pansy, still in a daze from what had just happened had simply decided she was going to shut up, which frankly, was unusual and very satisfying. Flitwick gripped his toga and forced him to bent down, so he was on eye-level with him. "President Riddle wants to see you" he said, looking positively thrilled. Draco simply nodded and followed his short escort through the host.

''Come, come'' Flitwick was walking as fast as he could on his little feet. He was dragged inside a room that looked like to be a study worthy of a king. He instantly felt dread. What did President Riddle want with him? He knew important conversations was being held at places like this. His father always dragged him into his study, when he wanted to discuss something important. The door behind him closed, and he was left alone with Riddle. The man was sitting behind his desk, smiling unpleasantly at him, his snake-eyes boring right through him.

''Ah, young Draco Malfoy. The great Lucius Malfoy's son. Am I right?'' He asked in a cold voice, avoid of all emotions. Clasping Draco's hand in his, in what was probably supposed to look like a friendly hand-shake. ''Yes sir, it is a pleasure to meet you again.'' Draco said politely.

''But the pleasure is all mine.'' Riddle almost purred. ''So tell me, how is my old friend doing?'' ''Very well, sir. He told me to send you his regards.''

Riddle beckoned for Draco to take a seat, ''Tell him to come visit soon again.'' After a short pause; ''You probably want to know why you are here?'' Draco nodded, ''Yes, sir.''

Riddle leaned back in his high leather chair and seemed to search for something in Draco's eyes. ''I want you to do me a favor.'' Draco tried his hardest not to fidget in the chair. He had never been particularly fond of President Riddle. The man was manipulative, but it was always best to be on his good side. Before Draco could utter a word, Riddle continued.

"I want you to ... observe the other tributes." he said slowly, and Draco raised an eyebrow "Observe, sir?" Riddle nodded "Yes. Observe. And if anything ... abnormal is to be seen, you must go to me. Do you understand?" not sure, Draco hesitated "Are you asking me to spy on my opponents?" Tom Riddle chuckled, and it was not a pleasant sound to the ears. "No such thing, my boy." but the look in his eyes suggested the contrary "I'm merely suggesting you keep an eye or two on them. We're never too cautious." Draco didn't answer, and the President took advantage of his silence to continue "I think you should be careful around Mr. Harry Potter. His parents were rebels, after all, and one is never too guarded around the offsprings of those people." he spat, and Draco finally understood "You want me to look for any trace of rebellion from the tributes" he realized.

Riddle kept quiet at the question, but his eyes told that yes, in fact, that was exactly what he wanted. ''Just don't be too cautious. Keep your guards up.'' Riddle said simply. ''Report back to me, the instant you sense something... Suspicious.'' Draco nodded, ''Yes sir.''

Riddle seemed satisfied and dismissed him. ''I won't keep you here any longer, Mr. Malfoy. You should go back. I cannot wait to see what you're worth once the games begin.''

Draco got to his feet, ''Have a great afternoon, sir.'' He said as his parting words, and once he was out of the room, he finally let himself breathe. How would he have time to both keep himself alive and operate under Riddle's orders. Harry Potter. He needed to found out who the boy was, and keep an extra eye on him. Or at least, make it look like he was trying.

Blaise was waiting for him "What did he want?" he asked. "Nothing. Wanted to tell me the costumes were beautiful" Draco lied, while Blaise beamed at him. "Really? You're such a bad liar, Draco." he said indulgently "But I guess this is none of my business. We should go to our suite before Nott tries to molest you." he whistled a melody as Draco followed him quickly to the lift, hoping the doors would close before Theodore or Pansy reached the escalator. Luckily, it did, and Draco sighed in relief. "Not a piece of cake those guys, eh?" Blaise laughed. The doors opened and Draco rushed to the bathroom, hoping to get a shower before Pansy took all the hot water.

About half an hour later, Flitwick called them to the living room, and announced that the tributes would all eat together in the dining room. He was sporting a mow on his face, which said a lot of what he thought of those 'lowly beings' Draco, who was walking at the opposite side of Pansy on purpose, rolled his eyes and followed Blaise closely. Maybe she won't talk to me if she thinks I'm otherwise occupied, he hoped. Blaise was relating him the latest fashion in the Capitol, explaining why pink should be absolutely prohibited. "It's a bad color. Makes you look unhealthy, which isn't good for the stein." He started, and Draco stifled a yawn. "Of course, you can still use one of those awful creams that dye your skin golden, but then again, I tried once and my fiancée called me, Golden Snitch for a month after that. Still don't know what it means, mind you. Told me it was a bird. A mutation." The blond just nodded, because frankly, he didn't know anything about golden snitches.

Blaise continued talking about fashion, while Draco just nodded along. Enjoying being free from Pansy and Nott. God, he hated that guy. He had no idea how he was supposed to handle him. He knew it would be to his disadvantage not getting along with their mentor. He was the one that would get them sponsors, and help them survive out in that Arena.

Finally they arrived at the dinning room. It seemed like they were one of the firsts to arrive, which suited Draco just fine. Then he could observe every tribute that came in. He took a seat beside Pansy, and which was just his luck, Nott decided to sit down on his other side, grinning and winking at him, in spite of, that they had fought the whole day almost. That guy just wouldn't give up, would he?

They started to eat. Well, the others started to eat, and Draco looked at the table with distaste. He was allergic to seafood, a fact that always bothered his father, because caviar was a hint of wealthiness. But, the last time he ate some, at eight, he had inflated so much they had to call the doctor so he wouldn't choke to death. But then again, his father was a very vain man. Draco had the inexplicable urge to talk to him. Despite their quarrels, he was still his father, wasn't he? He had educated and raised him in spite of all. He had offered comfort in his own strange way. Draco's eyes landed on the same tribute as before, interrupting his thoughts. He would have to watch the black haired man carefully. In spite of him looking skinny, he was still muscular and energetic. His green eyes gleamed from cleverness and striked him with their color.

Was that the tribute he needed to keep an eye on for President Riddle? He could see why that was. No one could be fooled by him, could they? He was probably going to be a hard competitor in the Arena, but Draco didn't even think twice about that he couldn't defeat him. Of course he could, he thought, while smirking to himself. The boy already had President Riddle breathing on his neck, one wrong move and Riddle would make sure that the Tribute from District 4 would die in The Arena. It wasn't that Draco approved, but he just needed to think about himself now. It wouldn't do to think more closely about the whole game, and all those who were going to die. He was the one that needed to get out of there alive.

Suddenly he felt a hand squeezing his thigh not too gently, he grabbed the hand and pushed it roughly away. ''How many times do I need to tell you, Nott?''

"As many as you want." Theodore snickered. "It doesn't mean I'm going to stop, does it?" Draco sighed when the hand resumed its moving. He took a deep breath, before yelling "STOP TOUCHING ME YOU SICK FUCK'' earning himself the stern glare of half of the room, and the purr from Nott "Let's see how the Barbie doll is going to win the game if she's not ready to give me what she wants." Desperate, Draco looked around his table for help, and for the first time in his life, he felt relieved when Pansy shrieked "Are you blackmailing me, Nott ? Can't you understand Draco is mine?" her eyes were burning and she had pointed her fork on Nott's neck. Draco hid his snicker in his hand.

Nott would feel truly sorry once he realized how a pissed off Pansy was. Nott looked at Pansy like she had grown an extra head, ''Calm down, girl. I was not talking about y-'' Smack. This time, Draco couldn't hide his snicker as he snorted in laughter. ''I will not let some silly boy talk about me like that! Or blackmail me for that sake!'' She screeched, leaving a red mark on Nott's left chin where she had slapped him. Hard. ''You will leave me alone! I have seen how you look at me. Guess what, I am taken!'' At this she scooted closer to Draco, looking at him lovingly, clearly showing everyone around her that she and Draco was a couple. Well, it took two to make a couple. Draco was having no participation in this pairing. He didn't know why Pansy had made it seem like it was her that Nott was interested in.

Feeling suddenly tired, he looked at the boy he had taken an interest in. The boy was looking back at him with his big beautiful unblinking eyes, questioning him. Draco scowled immediately, sneering at the tribute, before standing up and leaving the room. He was tired, alone, and he wanted nothing more but a good night of sleep. Tomorrow, they would have to resume their training, and he wished to be in good dispositions for the intensive session, he reserved for himself. On his way to the lift, he met one of the jurors who smiled at him. His name was Rodolphus Lestrange, and Draco had seen him a few times when he was younger. When his mother had fled, he had just stopped coming, which had led the blond boy to think they had had an adventure of sorts. "Good evening to you, Draco." Rodolphus saluted with a controlled smirk.

''Hello Lestrange.'' Draco nodded in greeting. He had always wondered if Rodulphus Lestrange was the reason behind as to why his mother had fled, but he would probably never know. He just knew his father hated Lestrange with a passion. ''Did you have a nice dinner?'' Rodulphus asked. ''Yes I did, thank you. The food was lovely.'' Draco answered politely. Lestrange walked quietly beside him, looking around the hallways like he was searching for something or someone. ''I'm looking quite forward to the games this year.'' He said in what sounded like a happy voice, but his face was looking at Draco quite seriously. What could Draco answer to that? 'Well sir, me too. It's going to be so much fun fighting for your own life among other kids.' he thought sarcastically.

Finally, he opted for a simple nod, and started to walk to his chambers, but Rodolphus stopped him before he went further "Malfoy" he started "Draco. I know where all the flowers go. You should go to me if, you know, you wanted to see them." Draco lifted an eyebrow.

.FUCK. Did he look like a gardener? He shrugged and waved goodbye to the man, completely confused by what Lestrange had just said. Like he even cared about some bloody flowers. What had that got to do with anything.

When he arrived to the wards, he locked himself in his bedroom and fell asleep quickly. He didn't dream at all, that night. A pleasant change for once.

The next morning Draco woke to someone stroking his hair. He didn't know why, but he leaned into the touch and saw the face of his mother, behind closed eyelids. His lips formed into a little fond smile, and slowly opened his eyes to the lovely sight of one Pansy Parkinson. He groaned and ran a hand across his face, sighing in frustration. ''Drake, what's wrong?'' She asked, and almost sounded concerned. He looked at her through his fingers and just shook his head. He was starting to get a headache just by her mere presence. ''We don't have that much time. Go shower!'' She stood up and looked expectantly at him. ''What?'' He asked warily. ''Oh, nothing darling.'' She said, winking at him. Then she kissed him square on the mouth and walked out of the room.

Only then did Draco noticed the broken door. He didn't have any word for this. Pansy had literally torn it to get into the room. A bit frightened, he went to the dressing room where Blaise had put their training set, which included a royal blue gym suit, a gourd and golden tennis. On the back of said sweat suit, a red number announced his district's number and his name. He dressed, not bothering with a shower - after all, they'd be sweaty and wet by the end of the day - and hurried to the training center, hoping he would be long gone before Pansy finished her shower.

When he arrived at the training center he noticed how few there were in the room. Why did people choose to take their time with unnecessary things, when it would be better to make them self as prepared as possible for the Arena. Draco walked, head held high, to one of the stations, figuring he could begin before Pansy came and maybe avoid her throughout the whole session, if luck was on his side. He stood in the middle of the room, considering where to start first. Should he begin with his weak spots, or strengthen the areas he already knew a lot about. As he looked around he noticed the black-haired annoying tribute from Districts 4, fumbling with tying a knot, with determination he walked in that direction, having finally decided which station to begin at. As he neared the spot, he saw the Tribute with a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. ''Well done, boy. It's few people that can do that knot.'' the trainer praised. ''You did it in such a short time.''.

Draco snorted, as his eyes landed on the boy's back. Harry. District 4. Such a common name. Was he the one Riddle wanted him to keep an eye on? The black haired boy welcomed him with a tense smile. The blond ignored him, as he took a rope and mimicked the trainer's hands movements. He was disappointed to realize his result wasn't as perfect as Harry's, so he tried a second and a third time until he got it perfectly. His opponent was watching him with an amused grin. "What?" he growled "Do you think you can kill me with those ridiculous knots of yours? It takes much more than that." The young man rolled his eyes and stated neutrally "Let's say you are running for your life. Let's say you're not as careful as you are usually. Let's say you walk on one of my "ridiculous knots", as you called them.." He had walk closer to Draco and they were almost nose to nose. Draco couldn't get his eyes anywhere else from those beautiful pools of green that adorned his new found rival's face. Harry Potter smiled and then whispered "And then, hanged by the foot to a tree, all it would take me, is an arrow in your heart, and you couldn't do anything to defend yourself.".

Draco stared at the boy for 3 whole seconds before he managed to come up with a reply. ''Firstly.'' He began coldly. ''I would never walk into one of your stupid knot traps. Do I look that stupid to you? I do know how to detect traps, mind you.'' Draco sneered. ''Poor you if your pretty little head can't work under pressure. You would walk into your own trap if you don't keep your head cold.'' He knelt down again, beginning on other knots, to get the grasp of it, trying his hardest to ignore the other boy.

''No, you're doing it wrong, you almost tied your finger into the knot.'' Draco snorted at this, until he realized the trainer was talking to him. He looked up and scowled at the man, ''What?'' he snapped. ''What exactly am I doing wrong?'' he looked down at his knot again, obviously seeing the fault, but wouldn't acknowledge it. ''You need to cross the wide end with the narrow twice before you tighten the knot.'' The boy who had a name now, Harry Potter, answered, smirking at him. Draco tried his hardest not to show his confusion. Cross it twice how exactly?

His interlocutor laughed "Secondly, look at the floor.". Draco did, and was surprised to see his feet tied in a tight knot. "Boom" Harry breathed, his mouth only an inch away from his ear "You're dead" and the blond felt the pointy end of a knife pressed at his side. The brunette winked, released him, then started to walk to another station, muttering a last "Good luck getting rid of that knot. I invented it myself, and no one in district 4 knows how to untie it, except for me." Draco swore and gave him the finger.

He looked down at the knot and groaned. He was glaring daggers at the boy's retreating back. He would get him back for this. Maybe he had his stupid knots, but Draco was still not stupid. It wasn't like he didn't know any tricks of his own. He suddenly smirked, forming up a plan. Well, the game was on. As soon as they were in the Arena he would kill the boy off. It would be easy. After all, he had been observing the boy closely since they came here, and he would continue to do so. He needed to figure out his flaws, and where he was weak. If you knew your opponents weaknesses you could easily take them down. That was what Draco decided to do. He slumped down and swore yet again, trying his hardest to untie the knot. Oh, he would so get him back for this.

"Do you need any help ?" the trainer asked with the hint of a smile in his voice. "No! I can do it alone!" Draco snapped, looking at the guy with disdain. The man shrugged "No need to be unpleasant. In two weeks time, you'll be dead. I don't really care how much you dislike me." he held out a knife, which Draco took and proceeded to slowly cut the ropes, which proved to be more difficult than he thought. Ten minutes later, through the laughs of the other tributes and the threat of Pansy coming in his direction to drool all over him, he finally succeeded and looked for Potter, hoping he could humiliate him as well. He found him at the bow station, trying to bend one, but obviously failing. "Not so mighty, now, Potter?" he sneered.

Harry turned around and looked at him, eyebrow raised. ''I see you managed to get out of my knot.. But not without the use of a knife.'' Draco didn't answer, instead he picked up a bow, relaxed his shoulders and drew the arrow back with eased practice, until his drawing hand was placed against the jaw. Before you could blink twice with the eye, he had hit the training dummy right in the heart. His arrow hit with such a great force that it almost bore the whole way through, sticking out at the other side. The whole room went quiet and everyone was looking at him. Someone in awe, and others more wary, but all he did was take up another arrow, and this time, he hit the object directly in the eye.

For a second, a flash of admiration crossed Harry's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a cold expression. "Not bad, for a barbie doll" he said. Draco, scowled, in cold fury, pointing his bow in the boy's direction : "I advice you to shut your mouth, or I'll pierce your throat with my arrow."

A security guard came by and ordered them to separate. They complied and each went his own way with a last growl in the other's direction.

Throughout the rest of the training sessions, the guards made sure Harry and Draco were nowhere near each other. Tributes weren't supposed to fight before they were in the Arena, and those two in closer quarters only meant trouble. Draco continued to work his way through the different stations, not paying attention to anyone around him, not even Pansy, even though she tried her hardest to impress Draco. He had to give it to her, she was quite skillful. She may look dumb, but he knew she wasn't. She could be as sneaky as he was.

When noon came, Draco sat next too a sympathetic blond girl with a charming smile and an easy laugh. "Bonjour" she said, obviously in french "I am Fleur Delacour. And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy." he introduced himself with a small bow of the head and a kiss on the back of her hand. Fleur giggled playfully "Why, Monsieur, aren't you a polite gentleman." After a few minutes of talking about the weather, he finally wondered, curiously he asked, "Tell me ... do you actually come from France? I thought ... It had been swallowed by the seas?" She frowned and looked around, as to see if someone was listening, keeping an eye on them. Finally, she whispered quietly "Non non. It certainly 'asn't disappeared ... but your government ... They often go to Europe and capture people... I was taken when I was only ten, and adopted later by a family from my district." she looked nostalgic "But I certainly miss Paris, and the Tour Eiffel." She finished in french with a glassy gaze "Je rêve souvent de me balader à nouveau sur les Champs Elysées, et ma petite soeur me manque. Gabrielle.''

Draco stared at the beautiful girl, saddened by the fact that the Capitol would go so far. Suddenly he frowned, wait. There was something else out there? Had the Capitol control there too? Draco wondered. He would have given anything to know how the situation was outside, since the Capitol had told them a big fat lie. But since Fleur had said they had captured her, that meant the Capitol had some kind of control there too, since they could capture people as they wished. This wasn't a comforting thought at all.

''Who is Gabrielle?'' Draco asked. He didn't understand a word of french, but he caught the mention of a name. She looked at him with her big sad blue eyes. ''My sister.'' she said quietly, taking a rather large sip of her wine. ''I do not know what happened to her after they captured me. I can only hope she is somewhere safe.''

"I'm sorry." he said truthfully. She just grinned "I'm not one to complain. I have a nice life, good friends, and a charming fiancé." her gaze landed on a ginger boy "Ronald! Viens ici! Come over here!" she called, and the boy, who was previously talking to a pretty bushy haired girl blushed and walked over, excusing himself to his interlocutor, in a clumsy step that suggested he had grown up too fast to really be used to it yet. "Oi Fleur!" he smiled "What's going on?" he asked while looking at Draco warily. "I just wanted to introduce you to my new friend, Draco. Draco, this is Ronald, my fiancé's brother."

This was anything but good, Draco thought. He was not supposed to make friends with people here, since the chances that he would be the one to kill them was pretty big. He needed to consider them as nothing but animals. It was animals he needed to hunt down and kill. It was easier that way, than to look at them as human beings, whose life had barely started. Each and everyone would die at such an young age. He nodded politely to the boy, almost immediately trying to analyze what he could about him. His body language already said a lot. From one look, Draco could tell that this was a weak opponent. But he needed to watch him some more, because tributes could always fool other people. He stretched a hand out to Ron, ''Draco Malfoy.'' he said. ''You're not from the same district, are you?'' Draco asked. ''How is it possible to be engaged to his brother?'' Fleur looked around once more, making sure no one was watching them. ''He travels a lot.'' She whispered as a way of explanation. Yes, the girl might have a good life, friends, and a loving fiancee, but what did it matter when she would soon have to face her own death.

"I have to go, boys" she announced after five minutes "I saw some éclairs au chocolat. It's been a while since I last ate one. À plus tard.". Both boys looked at her go, unblinkingly, then Ron sighed "I have to make sure she stays safe." he just said, then gave a sad smile to Draco and gulped down his glass of champaign. He told him goodbye, and a few minutes later the place was taken by none other than Harry Potter "Having fun ?" he asked with irony.

''Why yes, Potter. I'm having the time of my life.'' Draco sneered. Harry regarded him for a couple of seconds, and then chuckled drily. ''Yes, I see that. Enjoy it while you can.'' Was there an underlying threat in Potter's words, Draco wondered, while he settled a glass of wine in front of Harry. ''I suggest you do the same.'' He answered, raising his own glass in a toast.

Harry leaned so close to Draco he shuddered slightly, trying not to let on how much this proximity disturbed him in a way it shouldn't have. He breathed shakily as the boy murmured against his ear "I can't wait to see you in the arena... All sweaty ... the stein paled by fear, and your eyes red by the lack of sleep ... Such a sight you will be..''

Draco clenched his fists, wanting to hit Potter in his cocky little face, show him how oh so wrong he would be, when they both stood there, in the Arena. Then Draco would be the one watching the fear in Potter's eyes gleefully. It wasn't that he particularly would enjoy to kill, as he said, it was easier to pretend they were all animals, but no one would ever be allowed to mess with a Malfoy. He would be damned if he would let this boy be the reason he died there. No fucking way. ''I hope your face will still be recognizable when the hovercraft comes to pick your dead body up.'' Was all Draco said.


End file.
